Artykuły w czasopismach na temat „Kenton times”

Abstract This test was conducted at the Delaware State College Research Farm near Kenton, DE on a sixth-year stand of alfalfa. Plots were 20 ft × 20 ft arranged in a randomized complete block design replicated 4 times. Treatments vere applied with a wheelbarrow design, CO2 pressurized sprayer delivering 30 gal/acre at 40 psi. Leafhopper density was evaluated prior to treatment on 10 Jul and 2, 5, and 13 days posttreatment by taking 10 sweeps per plot with a 15-inch diam insect net.

Abstract In this study, contamination of potentially toxic elements (Cr, Mn, Cu, Zn, Hg and Pb) and species dominant in the fish community of Lake Kenon – Carassius auratus gibelio (Bloch 1782) and Perca fluviatilis (Linnaeus 1758) – were investigated. Chemical elements in samples were determined by atomic emission spectrometry (iCAP-6500, Thermo Scientific, USA) and mass spectrometry (X-7, Thermo Elemental, USA). It was reported that water in Lake Kenon contained low concentrations of the studied metals. The bottom sediments are enriched with Mn, Zn, Hg and Pb. Bioaccumulation factors of chemical elements accumulated from the surrounding water for P. fluviatus and C. auratus gibelio in descending order are as follows: Zn > Pb > Hg > Cu. P. fluviatus accumulates Hg in equal measure from both water and bottom sediments. Manganese and mercury are accumulated in the muscles of C. auratus gibelio from bottom sediments. The high accumulation ratio of Zn and Hg in C. auratus gibelio was obtained from Chara sp. (24 times) and Chironomus spp. (38 times), respectively. High accumulation ratio of Zn (26 times) and Hg (29 times) in P. fluviatus was obtained from amphipods. At the same time, Hg in P. fluviatus muscles was accumulated at high level from Chironomus spp. (67 times). In this way, management decisions for mitigation practices in Lake Kenon should be focussed on for the disposal of wastewater from the ash dump contaminated with chemical elements.

<p><strong>Abstract</strong></p><p>Cities have existed throughout the history as a combination and conflict of various cultures. The values of citizens are shaped by cultural accumulation that is created from the past to our times. Cultural elements cover a wide scope of fields from science in life to art. The history of the city helps the recognition of the city’s architecture, music, tradition, habits and culture and creates the identity of the city. All of these elements that form a city constitute the cultural heritage of the city. The best witnesses of cultural heritage are city museums which present cities as they are. City museums are one of archive sources that contain all the information that may be gathered about a city. Museums are significant structures that transfer the past to the future, witness all the times experienced by cities and symbolize cities. This study was form around who the structure and culture of a city is reflected by museums, which are the strongest protectors of the cultural heritage of a city. This is why this study discusses the province of Trabzon which has hosted several civilizations from the past to the present and protected its cultural heritage, as well as its city museums. Information and documents were collected in relation to the city museums in the province of Trabzon, and city museums were discussed with the method of field surveys. The city of Trabzon has been covered in the scope of the study with the city’s museums where it preserves its cultural heritage. The museum contributes to the development and strengthening of the social consciousness as well as the transfer of the city’s values, and the values we make us with great care. The purpose of the study is to reveal the extent to which city museums protect the cultural heritage of the city and transfer it to future generations.</p><p><strong>Öz</strong></p><p>Tarih boyunca kentler pek çok kültürün birleşimi ve çatışmasıyla ile var olmuştur. Kentlilerin sahip oldukları değerler geçmişten günümüze gelen kültürel birikimlerle şekillenir. Kültürel öğeler, yaşam içinde bilimden sanata pek çok alanı kapsamaktadır. Kentin tarihi, mimarisi, müziği, gelenek ve göreneği kenti ve kentin kültürünün tanınmasına yardımcı olur ve kentin kimliğini oluşturur. Kenti meydana getiren tüm bu öğeler, kentin kültürel mirasını temsil eder. Kültürel mirasın izlerinin en iyi tanıkları, onları olduğu gibi sunan kent müzeleridir. Kent müzeleri kente dair elde edilebilecek tüm bilgileri içinde barındıran kentin en önemli arşiv kaynaklarından biridir. Müzeler, kent için geçmişi geleceğe aktaran, kentin tüm zamanlarına tanıklık eden ve kenti simgeleyen önemli yapılardır. Bir kentin kültürel mirasının en güçlü koruyucuları olan müzelerin, kentin yapısını ve kültürünü nasıl yansıttığı bu çalışmanın ana kurgusunu oluşturmaktadır. Bu nedenle geçmişten günümüze birçok medeniyete ev sahipliği yapmış olan Trabzon kenti, kültürel mirasını koruduğu kent müzeleri ile çalışma kapsamında ele alınmıştır. Kent müzeleri şehrin değerlerinin gelecek kuşaklara aktarılmasının yanı sıra, toplum bilincinin gelişip güçlenmesine de katkıda bulunmaktadır. Trabzon kentindeki tüm müzeler bizi bir çatı altında toplayan; tarihimizi, kültürümüzü, gelenek ve göreneğimizi, kısacası bizi biz yapan değerleri büyük bir titizlikle korumaktadır. Çalışmada, literatür araştırması ile kentin müzeleri ile ilgili bilgiler ve belgeler toplanmış ve yerinde gözlem yoluyla da kent müzeleri irdelenmiştir.</p>

This study aims to determine the attenuation of the sound produced by a Kentongan musical instrument based on variations in the length of the Kentongan. Data were collected in a quiet room by starting to measure the noise and atmosphere of the room. This study used Sound Meter Software with version 3.4.5 with a maximum sound intensity limit of ~ 90 dB, mobile as an intermediary. This study used Kentongan with a length of 1, 29 cm and a length of 2 that was 34.1 cm. Experiments were carried out 3 times with the first experiment without Kentongan, then Kentongan 1 and then Kentongan 2. The sound intensity produced by without Kentongan is an average of 60.08 dB, then with Kentongan 1 that is, with an average of 61.86 dB, and Kentongan 2 with an average of 56.68 dB. ©2019 JNSMR UIN Walisongo. All rights reserved.

Cholera remains a topical infection in the world, which determines the high risk of importation of the pathogen on the territory of the Russian Federation. MLVA-typing of 135 strains at 5 tandem repeats loci was carried outin order to study the clonal-population structure of the isolated from 1973 to 2016 on the Transbaikal territory V. cholerae. Analysis of the distribution patterns showed that the primary emergence of strains with new atypical for the territory genotypes in 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, occurred in sewage waters with the subsequent detection of the given genotypes generally in Ingoda river and Kenon lake. The strains firstly isolated from Borzya river and Haranor lake and found out at various times in Ingoda river and Kenon lake, Chita, Argun rivers, Haranor lake and Borzya river have been dominating since 2005 in Transbaikal territory. Finding groups of isolates with identical or similar MLVA-profile appeared in cluster complexes evidence of their long-term preservation in specific ecological niches, strains’ allelic profiles undergo minor transformation on the most variable loci in the process of adaptation. Identification of V. cholerae El Tor that variable tandem repeat loci structure materially differs from those of the dominant clones may serve as proof of their invasive origin.

The study of neurogenesis is critical to understanding of the evolution of nervous systems. Within invertebrates, this process has been extensively studied in Drosophila melanogaster, which is the predominant model thanks to the availability of advanced genetic tools. However, insect nervous systems are extremely diverse, and by studying a range of taxa we can gain additional information about how nervous systems and their development evolve. One example of the high diversity of insect nervous system diversity is provided by the mushroom bodies. Mushroom bodies have critical roles in learning and memory and vary dramatically across species in relative size and the type(s) of sensory information they process. Heliconiini butterflies provide a useful snapshot of this diversity within a closely related clade. Within Heliconiini, the genus Heliconius contains species where mushroom bodies are 3–4 times larger than other closely related genera, relative to the rest of the brain. This variation in size is largely explained by increases in the number of Kenyon cells, the intrinsic neurons which form the mushroom body. Hence, variation in mushroom body size is the product of changes in cell proliferation during Kenyon cell neurogenesis. Studying this variation requires adapting labelling techniques for use in less commonly studied organisms, as methods developed for common laboratory insects often do not work. Here, we present a modified protocol for EdU staining to examine neurogenesis in large-brained insects, using Heliconiini butterflies as our primary case, but also demonstrating applicability to cockroaches, another large-brained insect.

The estimation of continuous downhole permeability is widely performed by nuclear magnetic resonance (NMR) using the classical Seevers-Kenyon and Timur-Coates models. The first approach uses an average of the relaxation times, whereas the latter approach is based on the fractional fluid content computed from a relaxation time distribution cutoff. However, several case studies in the literature reported that these models might fail, especially when applied to complex carbonate rocks in which permeability is often less correlated to porosity, irreducible water saturation, and relaxation times. This study develops and evaluates perm-estimators that use multiple relaxation times, proving that they are a general case of the classical models. The so-called multivariate estimators are calibrated with core permeability using principal component regression, which describes NMR variables in a simple and linear-independent space according to data variance. An important feature of the multivariate approach is the possibility of simultaneously using longitudinal T1 and transverse T2 relaxation times or simply using a specific segment of their distribution. Moreover, the multivariate estimators can also be applied to size-scaled T1,2 distributions for cases in which relaxation times are less sensitive to permeability, such as the carbonate rocks studied in this work. By employing mercury injection capillary pressure (MICP) data for the NMR size scaling, permeability estimates are improved considerably compared to the nonscaled estimates. The superior results achieved with the novel multivariate estimators over the classical models indicate that core and NMR well-logging data should be better explored to improve the accuracy of permeability estimates.

Humans have utilized tidal events at river mouths for a long time. The major benefit is the use of raw water for domestic water needs. On an average day, there will be one high tide and one low tide with a single diurnal tidal type. The utilization of surface water during tides in the Talang Kelapa sub-district of Banyuasin Regency is not optimally used, where there is a lack of adequate water sources. In addition, there has been no research on tidal water management systems in the study area. This study aims to analyze the availability of raw water, analyze the need for raw water for the daily needs of the community, evaluation a raw water system in the residential area of Kenten Laut Village so that during the dry season the need for raw water for residential households can be met. The results of the evaluation of the availability of raw water that can be utilized from the available channels (types 1, 2, 3, and 4) are 1.17 liters/second. The results of the calculation of the mainstay discharge of 1.703 liters/second with a total amount of water availability of 2.87 liters/second. While the total domestic and non-domestic water needs. While the total domestic and non-domestic water demand based on the population in 2022 is 12.99 liters/second. It can be concluded that the availability of tidal water in Kenten Laut Village has not been able to meet household water needs so alternatives are needed, namely water reservoirs, repairing damaged drainage channels, or repairing damaged drainage channels.

We prove analytical results showing that decoherence can be useful for mixing time in a continuous-time quantum walk on finite cycles. This complements the numerical observations by Kendon and Tregenna (Physical Review A 67 (2003), 042315) of a similar phenomenon for discrete-time quantum walks. Our analytical treatment of continuous-time quantum walks includes a continuous monitoring of all vertices that induces the decoherence process. We identify the dynamics of the probability distribution and observe how mixing times undergo the transition from quantum to classical behavior as our decoherence parameter grows from zero to infinity. Our results show that, for small rates of decoherence, the mixing time improves linearly with decoherence, whereas for large rates of decoherence, the mixing time deteriorates linearly towards the classical limit. In the middle region of decoherence rates, our numerical data confirms the existence of a unique optimal rate for which the mixing time is minimized.

The production of virgin coconut oil by the community is carried out using various techniques. One of them is fermenting using pure coconut oil as an inducement oil. However, production failures often occur. This study aims to examine the condition of coconut fruit as one of the success factors in production. There were 3 types of test samples, namely old coconuts (A), old coconuts containing kentos (B) and half-ripe coconuts (C). Production is carried out using the fermentation method and virgin coconut oil is used as the cooking oil. The three types of samples were treated the same, namely the volume of coconut milk, the volume of castor oil, the condition of room temperature and the length of time fermentation. The test was carried out 5 times for each sample. The success of the fermentation is indicated by the separation of the oil from the water and blondo. The results showed that of the 5 times of production, the highest production success occurred in sample A, which was 87%, while sample B was 40% and sample C was 20%. It was concluded that production using coconut milk from old coconuts (sample A), had a higher production success rate compared to coconut milk from B and samples C.

Teaching students ethical financial accounting practices and decision making can be complicated and challenging at good times. It requires the students to have a deep level understanding of the accounting requirements and professional values to be able to make fair and ethical judgements. However, for students who have no or little work experience making professional judgements without authentic contextual awareness and understanding may hold little significance (Mintz, 2019). Moore (2013) elaborates that for students to develop financial reporting professional judgment proficiency they need to experience practical business world scenarios and learn to question and think as a professional financial accountant. He further argues that is imperative to develop these skills as these are pre-requisites for subsequent units of study and a graduate attribute expected by professional accounting bodies and employers. In this session, we will discuss how we created an authentic and immersive case study for the students in collaboration with a professional accounting firm and other industry experts. We will discuss how authentic learning (Herrington, Reeves & Oliver, 2010) and heutagogic principles (Hase & Kenyon, 2000) were adopted in the design of the learning module to help develop critical thinking skills and understanding of connections within and implications from financial reporting professional judgements. References: Hase, S., & Kenyon, C. (2000). From andragogy to heutagogy. ultiBASE, 5(3). Retrieved from http://ultibase.rmit.edu.au/Articles/dec00/hase2.htm Herrington, J., Reeves, T. C., & Oliver, R. (2010). A guide to authentic e-learning (connecting with e-learning). New York: Routledge. Mintz, S. (2019). A new approach to teaching ethical decision making to accounting students. The CPA Journal, Online. Retrieved fromhttps://www.cpajournal.com/2019/10/14/a-new-approach-to-teaching-ethical-decision-making-to-accounting-students/ Moore, T. (2013). Critical thinking: seven definitions in search of a concept. Studies in Higher Education, 2013, Vol. 28, No 4, 506-522.

Abstract. With the times and increasingly advanced technology, individuals are looking for relationships and relationships through social media. Now humans can easily find friends and even a mate only through the internet. The presence of dating applications is an advancement in which single people can find a soul mate. But in carrying out interactions and even introductions, it requires self-disclosure with one another. Therefore, dating applications are applications that help in interpersonal communication. This study aims to find out how women disclose themselves through the Bumble dating application. Data collection techniques that will be carried out in this study are using field research observations, interviews, and documentation. The object of this research is the dating application Bumble. The subjects of this study were women in the city of Bandung who currently use or have used the dating application Bumble. This research method uses qualitative methods, and the approach taken uses a phenomenological approach. The theory used in this study is the theory of social penetration. The results of this study indicate that the motives for women's self-disclosure through the Bumble application are for the need for attachment and love (Belonginess and love needs), for the experience of women's self-disclosure through the Bumble application, there are women who continue serious relationships and also women who do not continue serious relationships and the meanings obtained are Impression Management, Privacy Boundaries, Different Experiences and Self Reflection. Abstrak. Dengan perkembangan zaman dan teknologi yang semakin maju, individu mencari relasi serta hubungan melalui sosial media. Kini manusia dapat dengan mudah mencari teman bahkan jodoh hanya melalui media internet. Hadirnya aplikasi kencan merupakan sebuah kemajuan yang dimana orang-orang yang lajang dapat menemukan pujaan hati. Namun dalam melakukan interaksi bahkan pengenalan, memerlukan keterbukaan diri satu sama lain. Maka dari itu, aplikasi kencan merupakan aplikasi yang membantu dalam melakukan komunikasi interpersonal. Penelitian ini memiliki tujuan untuk mengetahui bagaimana wanita melakukan keterbukaan dirinya melalui aplikasi kencan Bumble. Teknik pengumpulan data yang akan dilakukan dalam penelitian ini adalah menggunakan penelitian lapangan observasi, wawancara, dan dokumentasi. Objek dalam penelitian ini adalah aplikasi kencan Bumble. Subjek dari penelitian ini yaitu wanita di kota Bandung yang sedang atau pernah menggunakan aplikasi kencan Bumble. Metode penelitian ini menggunakan metode kualitatif, dan pendekatan yang dilakukan menggunakan pendekatan fenomenologi. Teori yang digunakan dalam penelitian ini ialah teori penetrasi sosial. Hasil dari penelitian ini menunjukan bahwa Motif keterbukaan diri wanita melalui aplikasi Bumble untuk kebutuhan akan keterikatan dan cinta (Belonginess and love needs), untuk pengalaman keterbukaan diri wanita melalui aplikasi Bumble adalah adanya wanita yang melanjutkan hubungan serius dan juga wanita yang tidak melanjutkan hubungan serius dan makna yang diperoleh ialah Impression Management, Batasan Privasi (Privacy Boundaries), Pengalaman Berbeda dan Self Reflection.

Information literacy includes a person's knowledge relating to information needs and the ability to identify, locate, evaluate, process, and create and use information to solve existing problems effectively. The type of research used is survey research with qualitative approach. The result of research indicate that based on IDM value, Paseban Village is classified as developing village with value 0,603. The information literacy level of Paseban villagers is still moderate, that is 62,25% of people understand information access, information evaluation is 52,875% and information usage is 40 , 87%. Potential Paseban village is quite diverse ranging from agriculture, livestock and tourism. Suggested recommendation is Improvement of information literacy of Paseban villagers through training and development of information center that provides access to information for the community. Meanwhile, based on data on village potential and IDM indicator, several recommendations are improvement of water drainage to Sadar times, normalization of irrigation channels, provision of public toilets for coastal areas, agricultural training and tool assistance, greening of mangrov, training of SMEs, establishing cooperatives for fishermen and farmers and improvements village Road.

We have used the two-microelectrode voltage-clamp technique to investigate the components of membrane current that contribute to the formation of the early part of the plateau phase of the action potential of calf cardiac Purkinje fibers. 3,4-Diaminopyridine (50 microM) reduced the net transient outward current elicited by depolarizations to potentials positive to -30 mV but had no consistent effect on contraction. We attribute this effect to the blockade of a voltage-activated transient potassium current component. Ryanodine (1 microM), an inhibitor of sarcoplasmic reticulum calcium release and intracellular calcium oscillations in Purkinje fibers (Sutko, J.L., and J.L. Kenyon. 1983. Journal of General Physiology. 82:385-404), had complex effects on membrane currents as it abolished phasic contractions. At early times during a depolarization (5-30 ms), ryanodine reduced the net outward current. We attribute this effect to the loss of a component of calcium-activated potassium current caused by the inhibition of sarcoplasmic reticulum calcium release and the intracellular calcium transient. At later times during a depolarization (50-200 ms), ryanodine increased the net outward current. This effect was not seen in low-sodium solutions and we could not observe a reversal potential over a voltage range of -100 to +75 mV. These data suggest that the effect of ryanodine on the late membrane current is attributable to the loss of sodium-calcium exchange current caused by the inhibition of sarcoplasmic reticulum calcium release and the intracellular calcium transient. Neither effect of ryanodine was dependent on chloride ions, which suggests that chloride ions do not carry the ryanodine-sensitive current components. Strontium (2.7 mM replacing calcium) and caffeine (10 mM), two other treatments that interfere with sarcoplasmic reticulum function, had effects in common with ryanodine. This supports the hypothesis that the effects of ryanodine may be attributed to the inhibition of sarcoplasmic reticulum calcium release.

Abstract Hawthorne’s Rome is the home of dark and evil catacombs. It is a city haunted by evil spirits from the past that actively shape the romance’s plot. Rome’s dark gardens, endless staircases, hidden corners and vast catacombs, as well as the malodorous Jewish ghetto, affect Donatello’s and Miriam’s judgment, almost forcing them to get rid of the Model, Miriam’s persecutor. Hawthorne’s narrator’s shockingly violent, harsh and seemingly anti-Semitic description of the ghetto in Rome is just one among many similarly ruthless, and at times offensive, accounts of the city wherein Hawthorne situates his last completed romance, The Marble Faun. Hawthorne’s two-year stay in Rome in 1858-59 sets the scene for his conception of The Marble Faun. In addition to providing Hawthorne with the extensive contact with art and artists that undoubtedly affected the choice of his protagonists (Kenyon, a sculptor; Hilda and Miriam, painters), Italy exposed Hawthorne to Jewish traditions and history, as well as to the life of Jews in the Roman ghetto. Most probably it also aroused his interest in some of the political affairs in which Italian Jews were involved in the 1840s and 50s. This historical background, especially the well-publicized abduction and conversion of a Jewish child, Edgardo Mortara, in 1858 provides important political and cultural background for Hawthorne’s portrayal of Miriam in The Marble Faun.

In a 1927 lecture the Director of the British Museum Sir Frederic Kenyon countered the futurist leader F. T. Marinetti's calls for the destruction of museums by arguing that “in times of upheaval . . . salvation is to be found in adherence to tradition” rather than in “break[ing] loose from” it. Kenyon explained the museum's role in promoting this salvation: A visit to a museum will not by itself quench a revolution. It would have been useless to invite the pétroleuses of the Commune to an official lecture in the Egyptian Gallery at the Louvre; but if they had been brought up to respect the past, there might have been a revolution without pétroleuses. Every form of instruction or experience which teaches men to link their lives with the past makes for stability and ordered progress. Hence the value of history and hence also the value of those institutions which teach history informally and without tears. (24–25) This is perhaps the most explicit statement of the British Museum's ideological function in early twentieth-century museum discourse. The museum acts as an ideological state apparatus that calls out to museum-goers to identify with, rather than agitate against, the social order symbolized in the “examples of great men” and the “monuments of the past” (23–24). Though not without critics, much of the new museology since the 1980s draws on this historical record and poststructuralist theory to argue that the modern museum operates as a site for the reflection or reinforcement of existing power relations. Critics have associated the museum, for example, with racism and sexism (Haraway), with classism (Bourdieu and Darbel), with imperialism and colonialism (Barringer and Flynn), with mechanisms of social control (Sherman and Rogoff), and with the consecration of state authority (Duncan and Wallach). Whereas Kenyon's defense of the museum suggests a reactionary position, the cultural destruction he combats amounts to a revolutionary act, whether accomplished by the “gay incendiaries with charred fingers” exhorted by Marinetti in his movement-founding manifesto of 1909 or the communardes accused of torching the French capital during the semaine sanglante in 1871 (43). For cultural destruction is inescapably political, as Antonio Gramsci argued in “Marinetti the Revolutionary” (1916). The Italian theorist and political activist identified the futurist discourse against the museum and the aesthetic tradition it perpetuates with the Marxist task of destroying “spiritual hierarchies, prejudices, idols and ossified traditions” to make way for the creation of a new, proletarian civilization (Gramsci 215).

Currently there is little geometry content in the early years of school. In my doctoral thesis Geometry in teaching children since the times of the Commission of National Education until today. Analysis of the successionof education concepts, supervised by Prof. Edyta Gruszczyk-Kolczynska, I examined how the teaching of geometry to younger children has changed since the time of KEN.In the article, I discuss curricula and methodological guide books for teachers in terms of the geometric content they cover in the first years of school education. I focus on three periods: the second half of the 19th century, the 1920s and the 1970s. These periods stand out from the others I studied n that there was a lot of geometric content in the first years of school. However, in the first one of these, the content was mainly included in the subject “drawings”, while in the others the main aim of teaching was to develop pupils’ computational skills. To a large extent, geometry has also served this purpose.

The purpose of this research is to find out how barong performers perform rituals, people's responses to rituals performed by barong players and the effect of rituals on the personal behavior of barong singers in Kencono in Kendal, Central Java. This study uses a qualitative method with an exploratory approach. The results of the study showed that the rituals performed by barong players included lek-lekan at night before the performance and accompanied by recitation, using offerings such as market snacks, bananas, flowers and eggs. Modern society interprets the offerings as art in culture, not the flow of beliefs that are believed to be guidelines for the belief in their lives. The ritual does not cause a negative influence on the barong player but instead increases devotion to God Almighty. Singo Kencono's barong art was formed to reflect the culture even though there have been many changes in accordance with the times but it still does not eliminate the original culture, other than that Singo Kencono's barong art was formed and played to entertain the public.

The effectiveness of the process of photoactivation of aqueous solutions has been proven by studies conducted in the article. As a method of exposure, UV radiation is low-cost and natural, so there is a need to study the effect of ultraviolet radiation on aqueous disinfectant solutions and to determine effective methods of irradiation. Accordingly, there is a need to investigate the effect of UV radiation on disinfectants, in particular on their antimicrobial properties and to determine the effective effect of ultraviolet radiation on the tool. The high pressure mercury arc lamp DRT-400 lamp was used as a source of ultraviolet radiation. The surface of the aqueous solution was at a distance of 0.25 m under a source of UV radiation. The photoactivated liquid was applied to the agar medium immediately after inoculation of bacteria. The growth of colonies of microorganisms was recorded 24 hours after application of the treated disinfectant solution. At the Department of Electrical Engineering, Electromechanics and Electrical Technologies of NULES of Ukraine measurements of pH, redox potential of disinfectant solutions immediately after irradiation were carried out. Graphical dependences of changes of disinfecting properties are received. It is established that ultraviolet radiation significantly changes the pH and redox potential of aqueous solutions of disinfectants. The intensity of the parameter change is characteristic of ultraviolet radiation at an exposure of 5-15 minutes. Irradiation of сoncentrated disinfectant based on quaternary ammonium and glutaraldehyde «Keno Cid 210» solution for 5 minutes effectively inhibits the growth properties of microorganisms. The concentration of the irradiated aqueous disinfectant solution can be 5 times lower than the concentration of the non-irradiated.

This study aims to reveal and describe the Development of Braid Horse Dance in Nagari Kurnia Selatan, Sungai Rumbai District, Dharmasraya Regency. This type of research is qualitative research with descriptive methods. The research instrument is the researcher himself and is assisted by supporting instruments such as stationery and cameras. The data in this study used primary data and secondary data. Data collection techniques are carried out by means of literature studies, observations and documentation. The steps to analyze the data are to collect the data, describe the data and infer the data. The results showed that the development of the Braid Horse Dance in South Nagari Kurnia can be seen from the movement, floor pattern, accompaniment music, makeup and clothing, the time and place of the performance. The Braid Horse Dance at Sanggar Ngesti Laras Tirto Kencono has been passed down for generations to 4 generations. The development of Kuda Kepang dance in Nagari Kurnia Selatan which was originally only performed at Wetonan events or selamatan events that occurred from 9 or 10 times a year but can now be performed at various events such as weddings, circumcisions, nagari events and Dharmasraya Regency birthday events.

The northern, James Ross Island region of the Larsen Basin, on the eastern, back-arc margin of the Antarctic Peninsula magmatic arc, includes one of the thickest and most complete Upper Cretaceous sedimentary successions exposed in the Southern Hemisphere. However, the southern part of the basin remains poorly known, mainly owing to inaccessibility and lack of exposure. Table Nunatak, an isolated, 1-km-long, 400-m-wide outcrop at the tip of Kenyon Peninsula, is the only known exposure of Upper Cretaceous or younger strata in this region. The 62-m-thick succession exposed there is assigned to the newly defined Table Nunatak Formation. It consists mainly of sharp-based, amalgamated beds of fine-grained sandstone up to 2.8 m thick, with subordinate intervals of intensely bioturbated mudstone. Wave ripples are present at some levels, and locally developed swaley cross-stratification provides evidence for storm-generated combined-flow deposition. However, most sandstone beds appear to be internally structureless apart from normal grading, and are interpreted as the direct suspension deposits of highly sediment-charged storm- and/or flood-related flows. The succession represents relatively nearshore deposition, probably at the mouth of a river or deltaic distributary channel. Charcoalified plant debris, abundant at the tops of some sandstone beds, suggests a periodically wildfire-swept hinterland forested largely by coniferous trees. Dinoflagellate cyst assemblages indicate a late Santonian age, and suggest correlation with the basal part of the Lachman Crags Member of the Santa Marta Formation (Marambio Group) on James Ross Island. Palaeocurrents, sandstone petrography and the high sediment supply rate proposed for the Table Nunatak Formation, suggest a relatively high-relief source area to the west, with large-scale erosion of granitoid plutons and metamorphic rocks, possibly related to arc uplift during a mid-Cretaceous compressional episode. The formation is evidence of a major southward extension of the Upper Cretaceous strata exposed in the northern Larsen Basin, and suggests lateral continuity of shallow-marine deposition for at least 500–600 km along the Weddell Sea margin of the Antarctic Peninsula in Santonian times.

<p><strong>Abstract</strong></p><p>Iznik Excavations, which deal with the historical and cultural heritage of Iznik collectively and in various aspects, are examined in two periods. First period excavations were started with the studies of Dr. Oktay Aslanapa’s Orhan İmaret and Bath. After two years studying in the Orhan Imaret, the researches were directed on tiles and ceramics that provided the original fame to Iznik. It was aimed to identify the production centers and techniques of the Ottoman ceramics and tiles, which were named according to the places where they were bought, and to open the kilns and workshops where they were produced. With the excavation and drilling activities carried out regularly, including 1969; with the deformation and burnt fragments, semi-finished fragments, baked goods, as well as furnace residues that have collapsed while being filled inside it is proved to scientific community that while the Ottoman ceramics which are tried to be defined with names such as Miletus ware, Golden Horn ware, Damascus ware, Rhodes ware, it was defined that the main and important production center of their is İznik,</p><p>Because of the team concentrated on Van Excavation, the researches were ended in İznik 1969, but the kiln ruins emerged during the road studies in 1980 conduced to restart of the studies with the name of II. Period and Iznik Tile Kilns Excavation in 1981. Since 1981, three years had been devoted to drilling in a very wide area in the empty spaces. In 1983, the regular excavations were started with the drilling activities executed in the eastern region of II. Murat Bath which was coded as BHD, also known as the Municipal Baths gives rich finds.</p><p>As a result of the excavation work concentrated on the specified area, many finds from the period in which production continued here between the conquest of the city in 1331 and the beginning of the 18th century were unearthed. Besides the confirmation of the data previously collected about Iznik tile and ceramic art, these finds contributed to obtaining new information in terms of technique/production, form, design and composition.</p><p>This studyaimstoin traduce the interesting tile finds uncovered in Iznik Excavations and to conduct and evaluation. We will concentrate on the similarities between the tiles unearthed in the excavations and the tiles used in the Ottoman Era buildings and the pieces we know from the collections.<strong></strong></p><p> </p><p><strong>Öz</strong></p><p>İznik’in tarihi ve kültürel mirasını toplu olarak ve çeşitli yönleriyle ele alan İznik Kazıları iki dönem halinde incelenir. I. Dönem çalışmaları Prof. Dr. Oktay Aslanapa’nın Orhan İmareti ve Hamamı Kazısı ile başlamıştır. İki sezon süren Orhan İmareti çalışmalarının ardından İznik’e asıl ününü sağlayan çini ve seramikle ilgili araştırmalara yönelinmiştir. Çalışmalarda genellikle satın alındıkları yerlere göre isimlendirilen Osmanlı seramik ve çinilerinin üretim merkezlerini ve tekniklerini tespit yanında, üretildikleri fırın ve atölyeleri de açığa çıkarmak amaçlanmıştır. 1969 yılı da dâhil olmak üzere düzenli olarak sürdürülen kazı ve sondaj çalışmalarıyla; Milet işi, Haliç işi, Şam işi, Rodos işi gibi isimlerle tanımlanmaya çalışılan Osmanlı seramik ve çinilerinin asıl ve önemli üretim merkezinin İznik olduğu, deforme ve yanık parçalar, yarı mamul fragmanlar, pişirim malzemeleri yanında içi doluyken çökmüş durumda bulunan fırın kalıntılarıyla bilim çevrelerine kanıtlanmıştır. 1969 yılından itibaren ekibin Van Kazısına ağırlık vermesi nedeniyle İznik’te son verilen araştırmalara, 1980 yılındaki yol çalışmaları sırasında ortaya çıkan fırın kalıntısının değerlendirilmesinin ardından, 1981 yılından itibaren II. Dönem ve İznik Çini Fırınları Kazısı adı ile yeniden başlanmıştır. 1981 yılından itibaren üç yıl oldukça geniş bir ekiple boş alanlardaki sondajlara ağırlık verilmiştir. 1983 yılında, BHD olarak kodladığımız Belediye Hamamı olarak da bilinen II. Murat Hamamı’nın doğusundaki alanda yapılan sondajların zengin buluntu vermesiyle düzenli kazı çalışmalarına bu bölgede başlanmıştır.</p><p>Söz konusu alanda yoğunlaşan kazı çalışmalarımız sonucunda, kentin fethedildiği 1331 yılından burada üretimin sürdüğü XVIII. yüzyıl başlarına kadar uzayan sürede İznik’te Osmanlı çini ve seramik üretiminin bütün üslup dönemlerine ait çok sayıda buluntu ele geçirilmiştir. Bu buluntular, İznik çini ve seramik sanatına ilişkin önceden bilinen bilgilerin doğrulanmasının yanı sıra teknik/üretim, form, desen ve kompozisyon açısından yeni bilgilere ulaşmamızı sağlamıştır.</p><p>Bu çalışmada, İznik Kazılarında ele geçen çini buluntuların ilgi çekicilerinin tanıtılması ve değerlendirmelerinin yapılması amaçlanmaktadır. Kazı buluntusu çinilerin, Osmanlı Dönemi yapılarında kullanılan çiniler ve koleksiyonlardan tanınan parçalarla benzerlikleri üzerinde durulacaktır.</p>

Mount Arjuna is not only a popular tourist destination in Indonesia because of its outstanding natural beauty. Mount Arjuna also has a cultural heritage reflected in its sites. The slopes of Mount Arjuna have diverse folklore. Revitalization of folklore values on the slopes of Mount Arjuna is an essential step in maintaining cultural heritage and preserving local identity. The objectives of this study are 1) to study the folklore on the slopes of Mount Arjuna and 2) to design a revitalization of the folkloric values of the Lereng Gunung Arjuna site. This research uses a historical method consisting of four stages, namely heuristics, criticism, interpretation, and historiography, with an empirical approach. Data analysis was done comparatively by proving the Lereng Gunung Arjuna site and the Lereng Gunung Arjuna folklore. The results showed 1) there are 19 folklors contained in each site. Sites of Mount Arjuna Slope, namely Oento Boego Cave, Watu Kursi, Eyang Madrim, Rahtawu or Tampuono, Eyang Sekutrem, Eyang Abiyoso, Nogo Gini Cave, Sendang Dewi Kunti, Puthuk Lesung, Eyang Sakri, Eyang Semar, Dwarapala Statue, Makuthoromo, Sendang Widodari, Wejangan Cave, Rancang Kencono, Candi Wesi, Sendang Drajat, Sepilar; 2) Local wisdom as a concept of preserving the environment wrapped in harmony between the value of divinity-humanity-nature around. The existing local wisdom is used as an inspiration for the mechanism of social life. The implementation of revitalization requires support from the parties (multi-stakeholders), and then the folklore is preserved and adjusted by the social context and changing times. Various existing folklore has the potential to be transformed elsewhere. In education, it is introduced and converted to school students so that local wisdom as an ancestral heritage and potential can be changed as a guide for the next generation's life.

Abstract Spatial biology is revolutionizing the way in which we extract biological insights from precious clinical samples, allowing profiling of thousands of RNA species and ever higher numbers of antibodies to be analyzed from a single tissue slide. But with new 'omics capabilities scaling the analytical and infrastructure requirements for these high-content datasets is more critical than ever, as these datasets contain billions of data points and hundreds of images that require more extensive storage and analysis capabilities. To enable scientists to leverage spatial 'omics instruments, we have launched the AtoMx™ Spatial Informatics Platform, which will enable analytics across NanoString's spatial profiling and imaging solutions.The AtoMx platform was designed to specifically host, ingest, and manage data generated from both the GeoMx® Digital Spatial Profiler and the CosMx™ Spatial Molecular Imager. Data generated by either of these platforms is analyzed, stored, and managed in cloud or private HPC environments. Within the AtoMx platform, we provide native, comprehensive analysis suites specifically designed to integrate the high content, multiplexed imaging from either platform with the molecular readouts. Machine learning methods in key analysis modules allow AtoMx to scale to the billions of data points collected while still maintaining lower compute times. The AtoMx platform is built to conform to open data standards and will support customization through custom analysis scripts, APIs for integration to external software, and a community standard data model that facilitates the integration of tools in open source repositories.With the CosMx platform we have been able to demonstrate a 75x decrease in data processing times compared to locally resourced servers for equivalent data analysis requests by utilizing the scaling tools a cloud service provides such as scaling by compute type for greater RAM access or multiple, parallel compute instances. The platform is designed to facilitate data sharing and collaborative in silico analysis of spatial data, with direct permissions management and compliance with regional privacy requirements. The AtoMx Spatial Informatics Platform provides an extensible, secure management and analysis solution, capable of processing transcriptome-wide expression or high plex protein profiling from the GeoMx Digital Spatial Profiler as well as subcellular spatial 'omics data Citation Format: Jason W. Reeves, David Henderson, Matt Crow, April Munn, Kenlyn Terai, Joachim Schmid. Solving the problem of spatial informatics: Harnessing the power of the cloud and enabling the integration of open source tools for spatial ‘omics analytics [abstract]. In: Proceedings of the American Association for Cancer Research Annual Meeting 2023; Part 1 (Regular and Invited Abstracts); 2023 Apr 14-19; Orlando, FL. Philadelphia (PA): AACR; Cancer Res 2023;83(7_Suppl):Abstract nr 2083.

The late-stage demixing following spinodal decomposition of a three-dimensional symmetric binary fluid mixture is studied numerically, using a thermodynamically consistent lattice Boltzmann method. We combine results from simulations with different numerical parameters to obtain an unprecedented range of length and time scales when expressed in reduced physical units. (These are the length and time units derived from fluid density, viscosity, and interfacial tension.) Using eight large (2563) runs, the resulting composite graph of reduced domain size l against reduced time t covers 1 [lsim ] l [lsim ] 105, 10 [lsim ] t [lsim ] 108. Our data are consistent with the dynamical scaling hypothesis that l(t) is a universal scaling curve. We give the first detailed statistical analysis of fluid motion, rather than just domain evolution, in simulations of this kind, and introduce scaling plots for several quantities derived from the fluid velocity and velocity gradient fields. Using the conventional definition of Reynolds number for this problem, Reϕ = ldl/dt, we attain values approaching 350. At Reϕ [gsim ] 100 (which requires t [gsim ] 106) we find clear evidence of Furukawa's inertial scaling (l ∼ t2/3), although the crossover from the viscous regime (l ∼ t) is both broad and late (102 [lsim ] t [lsim ] 106). Though it cannot be ruled out, we find no indication that Reϕ is self-limiting (l ∼ t1/2) at late times, as recently proposed by Grant & Elder. Detailed study of the velocity fields confirms that, for our most inertial runs, the RMS ratio of nonlinear to viscous terms in the Navier–Stokes equation, R2, is of order 10, with the fluid mixture showing incipient turbulent characteristics. However, we cannot go far enough into the inertial regime to obtain a clear length separation of domain size, Taylor microscale, and Kolmogorov scale, as would be needed to test a recent ‘extended’ scaling theory of Kendon (in which R2 is self-limiting but Reϕ not). Obtaining our results has required careful steering of several numerical control parameters so as to maintain adequate algorithmic stability, efficiency and isotropy, while eliminating unwanted residual diffusion. (We argue that the latter affects some studies in the literature which report l ∼ t2/3 for t [lsim ] 104.) We analyse the various sources of error and find them just within acceptable levels (a few percent each) in most of our datasets. To bring these under significantly better control, or to go much further into the inertial regime, would require much larger computational resources and/or a breakthrough in algorithm design.

Our studies have indicated that the relative concentration of Se or Hg to As in urine and blood positively correlates with percentage of inorganic arsenic (% Inorg-As) and percentage of monomethlyarsonic acid [% MMA (V)]. We also found a negative correlation with percentage of dimethylarsinic acid [% DMA (V)] and the ratio of % DMA (V) to % MMA (V). In another study, we found that a group of proteins were significantly over expressed and conversely other groups were under-expressed in tissues in Na-As (III) treated hamsters. Introduction.Inorganic arsenic (Inorg-As) in drinking water.One of the largest public health problems at present is the drinking of water containing levels of Inorg-As that are known to be carcinogenic. At least 200 million people globally are at risk of dying because of arsenic (As) in their drinking water1-3. The chronic ingestion of Inorg-As can results in skin cancer, bladder cancer, lung cancer, and cancer of other organs1-3. The maximum contamination level (MCL) of U.S. drinking water for arsenic is 10 ug/L. The arsenic related public health problem in the U.S. is not at present anywhere near that of India4, Bangladesh4, and other countries5. Metabolism and toxicity of Inorg-As and arsenic species.Inorg-As is metabolized in the body by alternating reduction of pentavalent arsenic to trivalent form by enzymes and addition of a methyl group from S-adenosylmethionine6, 7; it is excreted mainly in urine as DMA (V)8. Inorganic arsenate [Inorg-As (V)]is biotransformed to Inorg-As (III), MMA (V), MMA (III), DMA (V), and DMA (III)6(Fig. 1). Therefore, the study of the toxicology of Inorg-As (V) involves at least these six chemical forms of arsenic. Studies reported the presence of 3+ oxidation state arsenic biotransformants [MMA (III) and DMA (III)] in human urine9and in animal tissues10. The MMA (III) and DMA (III) are more toxic than other arsenicals11, 12. In particular MMA (III) is highly toxic11, 12. In increased % MMA in urine has been recognized in arsenic toxicity13. In addition, people with a small % MMA in urine show less retention of arsenic14. Thus, the higher prevalence of toxic effects with increased % MMA in urine could be attributed to the presence of toxic MMA (III) in the tissue. Previous studies also indicated that males are more susceptible to the As related skin effects than females13, 15. A study in the U.S population reported that females excreted a lower % Inorg-As as well as % MMA, and a higher % DMA than did males16. Abbreviation: SAM, S-adenosyl-L-methionine; SAHC, S-adenosyl-L-homocysteine. Differences in susceptibility to arsenic toxicity might be manifested by differences in arsenic metabolism among people. Several factors (for examples, genetic factors, sex, duration and dosage of exposure, nutritional and dietary factors, etc.) could be influence for biotransformation of Inorg-As,6, 17 and other unknown factors may also be involved. The interaction between As, Se, and Hg.The toxicity of one metal or metalloid can be dramatically modulated by the interaction with other toxic and essential elements18. Arsenic and Hg are toxic elements, and Se is required to maintain good health19. But Se is also toxic at high levels20. Recent reports point out the increased risk of squamous cell carcinoma and non-melanoma skin cancer in those treated with 200 ug/day of selenium (Nutritional Prevention of Cancer Trial in the United States)21. However, it is well known that As and Se as well as Se and Hg act as antagonists22. It was also reported that Inorg-As (III) influenced the interaction between selenite and methyl mercury23. A possible molecular link between As, Se, and Hg has been proposed by Korbas et al. (2008)24. The identifying complexes between the interaction of As and Se, Se and Hg as well as As, Se, and Hg in blood of rabbit are shown in Table 1. Influence of Se and Hg on the metabolism of Inorg-As.The studies have reported that Se supplementation decreased the As-induced toxicity25, 26. The concentrations of urinary Se expressed as ug/L were negatively correlated with urinary % Inorg-As and positively correlated with % DMA27. The study did not address the urinary creatinine adjustment27. Other researchers suggested that Se and Hg decreased As methylation28-31(Table 2). They also suggested that the synthesis of DMA from MMA might be more susceptible to inhibition by Se (IV)29 as well as by Hg (II)30,31 compared to the production of MMA from Inorg-As (III). The inhibitory effects of Se and Hg were concentration dependent28-31. The literature suggests that reduced methylation capacity with increased % MMA (V), decreased % DMA (V), or decreased ratios of % DMA to % MMA in urine is positively associated with various lesions32. Lesions include skin cancer and bladder cancer32. The results were obtained from inorganic arsenic exposed subjects32. Our concern involves the combination of low arsenic (As) and high selenium (Se) ingestion. This can inhibit methylation of arsenic to take it to a toxic level in the tissue. Dietary sources of Se and Hg.Global selenium (Se) source are vegetables in the diet. In the United States, meat and bread are the common source. Selenium deficiency in the US is rare. The US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has found toxic levels of Se in dietary supplements, up to 200 times greater than the amount stated on the label33. The samples contained up to 40,800 ug Se per recommended serving. For the general population, the most important pathway of exposure to mercury (Hg) is ingestion of methyl mercury in foods. Fish (including tuna, a food commonly eaten by children), other seafood, and marine mammals contain the highest concentrations. The FDA has set a maximum permissible level of 1 ppm of methyl mercury in the seafood34. The people also exposed mercury via amalgams35. Proteomic study of Inorg-As (III) injury.Proteomics is a powerful tool developed to enhance the study of complex biological system36. This technique has been extensively employed to investigate the proteome response of cells to drugs and other diseases37, 38. A proteome analysis of the Na-As (III) response in cultured lung cells found in vitro oxidative stress-induced apoptosis39. However, to our knowledge, no in vivo proteomic study of Inorg-As (III) has yet been conducted to improve our understanding of the cellular proteome response to Inorg-As (III) except our preliminary study 40. Preliminary Studies: Results and DiscussionThe existing data (Fig. 1) from our laboratory and others show the complex nature of Inorg-As metabolism. For many years, the major way to study, arsenic (As) metabolism was to measure InorgAs (V), Inorg-As (III), MMA (V), and DMA (V) in urine of people chronically exposed to As in their drinking water. Our investigations demonstrated for the first time that MMA (III) and DMA (III) are found in human urine9. Also we have identified MMA (III) and DMA (III) in the tissues of mice and hamsters exposed to sodium arsenate [Na-As (V)]10, 41. Influence of Se as well as Hg on the As methyltransferase.We have reported that Se (IV) as well as mercuric chloride (HgCl2) inhibited As (III) methyltransferase and MMA (III) methyltransferase in rabbit liver cytosol. Mercuric chloride was found to be a more potent inhibitor of MMA (III) methyltransferase than As (III) methyltransferase30. These results suggested that Se and Hg decreased arsenic methylation. The inhibitory effects of Se and Hg were concentration dependent30. Influence of Se and Hg in urine and blood on the percentage of urinary As metabolites.Our human studies indicated that the ratios of the concentrations of Se or Hg to As in urine and blood were positively correlated with % Inorg-As and % MMA (V). But it negatively correlated with % DMA (V) and the ratios of % DMA (V) to % MMA (V) in urine of both males and females (unpublished data) (Table 3). These results confirmed that the inhibitory effects of Se as well as Hg for the methylation of Inorg-As in humans were concentration dependent. We also found that the concentrations of Se and Hg were negatively correlated with % Inorg-As and % MMA (V). Conversely it correlated positively with % DMA (V) and the ratios of % DMA (V) to % MMA (V) in urine of both sexes (unpublished data). These correlations were not statistically significant when urinary concentrations of Se and Hg were adjusted for urinary creatinine (Table 3). Interactions of As, Se, Hg and its relationship with methylation of arsenic are summarized in Figure 2. Sex difference distribution of arsenic species in urine.Our results indicate that females have more methylation capacity of arsenic as compared to males. In our human studies (n= 191) in Mexico, we found that females (n= 98) had lower % MMA (p<0.001) and higher % DMA (p=0.006) when compared to males (n= 93) (Fig. 3). The means ratio of % MMA (V) to % Inorg-As and % DMA (V) to %MMA (V) were also lower (p<0.05) and higher (p<0.001), respectively in females compared to males. The protein expression profiles in the tissues of hamsters exposed to Na-As (III).In our preliminary studies40, hamsters were exposed to Na-As (III) (173 pg/ml as As) in their drinking water for 6 days and control hamsters were given only the water used to make the solutions for the experimental animals. After DIGE (Two-dimensional differential in gel electrophoresis) and analysis by the DeCyder software, several protein spots were found to be over-expressed (red spot) and several were under expressed (green spot) as compared to control (Figs. 4a-c). Three proteins (one was over-expressed and two were under-expressed) of each tissue (liver and urinary bladder) were identified by LC-MS/MS (liquid chromatography-tandem mass spectrometry).DIGE in combination with LC-MS/MS is a powerful tool that may help cancer investigators to understand the molecular mechanisms of cancer progression due to Inorg-As. Propose a new researchThese results suggested that selenium (Se) as well as mercury (Hg) may influence the methylation of Inorg-As and this influence could be dependent on the concentration of Se, Hg and/or the sex of the animal. Our study also suggested that the identification and functional assignment of the expressed proteins in the tissues of Inorg-As (III) exposed animals will be useful for understanding and helping to formulate a theory dealing with the molecular events of arsenic toxicity and carcinogenicity.Therefore, it would be very useful if we could do a research study with combination of Inorg-arsenic, Se, and Hg. The new research protocol could be the following:For metabolic processing, hamsters provide a good animal model. For carcinogenesis, mouse model is well accepted. The aims of this project are: 1) To map the differential distributions of arsenic (As) metabolites/species in relation to selenium (Se) and mercury (Hg) levels in male and female hamsters and 2) To chart the protein expression profile and identify the defense proteins in mice and hamsters after As injury. Experimental hamsters (male or female) will include four groups. The first group will be treated with Na arseniteNa-As(III), the second group with Na-As (III) and Na-selenite (Na-Se (IV)], the third group with Na As (III) and methyl mercuric chloride (MeHgCl), and the final group with Na-As (III), Na-Se (IV), and MeHgci at different levels. Urine and tissue will be collected at different time periods and measured for As species using high performance liquid chromatography/inductively coupled plasma-mass spectrometry (HPLC/ICP-MS). For proteomics, mice (male and female) and hamsters (male and female) will be exposed to Na-As (III)at different levels in tap water, and control mice and hamsters will be given only the tap water. Tissue will be harvested at different time periods. TWO dimensional differential in gel electrophoresis (2D-DIGE) combined with liquid chromatography-tandem mass spectrometry (LC-MS/MS) will be employed to identify the expressed protein. In summary, we intend to extend our findings to: 1) Differential distribution of As metabolites in kidney, liver, lung, and urinary bladder of male and female hamsters exposed to Na-As (III), and combined with Na-As (III) and Na-Se (IV) and/or MeHgCl at different levels and different time periods, 2) Show the correlation of As species distribution in the tissue and urine for both male and female hamsters treated with and without Na-Se (IV) and/or MeHgCl, and 3) Show protein expression profile and identify the defense proteins in the tissues (liver, lung, and urinary bladder epithelium) in mice after arsenic injury. The significance of this study: The results of which have the following significances: (A) Since Inorg-As is a human carcinogen, understanding how its metabolism is influenced by environmental factors may help understand its toxicity and carcinogenicity, (B) The interactions between arsenic (As), selenium (Se), and mercury (Hg) are of practical significance because populations in various parts of the world are simultaneously exposed to Inorg-As & Se and/or MeHg, (C) These interactions may inhibit the biotransformation of Inorg-As (III) which could increase the amount and toxicity of Inorg-As (III) and MMA (III) in the tissues, (D) Determination of arsenic species profile in the tissues after ingestion of Inorg-As (III), Se (IV), and/or MeHg+ will help understand the tissue specific influence of Se and Hg on Inorg-As (III) metabolism, (E) Correlation of arsenic species between tissue and urine might help to understand the tissue burden of arsenic species when researchers just know the distribution of arsenic species in urine, (F) The identification of the defense proteins (over-expressed and under-expressed) in the tissues of the mouse may lead to understanding the mechanisms of inorganic arsenic injury in human. The Superfund Basic Research Program NIEHS Grant Number ES 04940 from the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences supported this work. Additional support for the mass spectrometry analyses was provided by grants from NIWHS ES 06694, NCI CA 023074 and the BIO5 Institute of the University of Arizona. Acknowledge:The Authorwantsto dedicate this paper to the memory of Dr. H. VaskenAposhian and Dr. Mary M. Aposhian who collected urine and bloodsamples from Mexican population. The work was done under Prof. H. V. Aposhian sole supervision and with his great contribution. References NRC (National Research Council). Arsenic in Drinking Water. Update to the 1999 Arsenic in Drinking Water Report. National Academy Press, Washington, DC. 2001. Gomez-Caminero, A.; Howe, P.; Hughes, M.; Kenyon, ; Lewis, D. R.; Moore, J.; Mg, J.; Aitio, A.; Becking, G. Environmental Health Criteria 224. Arsenic and Arsenic Compounds (Second Edition). 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Abstract In 2006, Kenyon and Okounkov Kenyon and Okounkov [12] computed the moduli space of Harnack curves of degree d in ${\mathbb {C}\mathbb {P}}^2$ . We generalise their construction to any projective toric surface and show that the moduli space ${\mathcal {H}_\Delta }$ of Harnack curves with Newton polygon $\Delta $ is diffeomorphic to ${\mathbb {R}}^{m-3}\times {\mathbb {R}}_{\geq 0}^{n+g-m}$ , where $\Delta $ has m edges, g interior lattice points and n boundary lattice points. This solves a conjecture of Crétois and Lang. The main result uses abstract tropical curves to construct a compactification of this moduli space where additional points correspond to collections of curves that can be patchworked together to produce a curve in ${\mathcal {H}_\Delta }$ . This compactification has a natural stratification with the same poset as the secondary polytope of $\Delta $ .

International audience Dyck tilings were introduced by Kenyon and Wilson in their study of double-dimer pairings. They are certain kinds of tilings of skew Young diagrams with ribbon tiles shaped like Dyck paths. We give two bijections between "cover-inclusive'' Dyck tilings and linear extensions of tree posets. The first bijection maps the statistic (area + tiles)/2 to inversions of the linear extension, and the second bijection maps the "discrepancy'' between the upper and lower boundary of the tiling to descents of the linear extension. Les pavages de Dyck ont été introduits par Kenyon et Wilson dans leur étude du modèle des "double-dimères''. Ce sont des pavages des diagrammes de Young gauches avec des tuiles en forme de rubans qui ressemblent à des chemins de Dyck. Nous donnons deux bijections entre les pavages de Dyck ``couvre-inclusive'' et les extensions linéaires de posets dont le diagramme de Hasse est un arbre. La première bijection transforme la statistique (aire + tuiles) / 2 en inversions de l'extension linéaire, et la deuxième bijection transforme la "discordance'' entre la limite supérieure et inférieure du pavage en descentes de l'extension linéaire.

Mikrostruktur permukaan bahan geseran brek beransur berubah dengan peningkatan masa pembrekan dan beban kenaan. Setiap sampel menjalani ujian geseran dengan lima beban kenaan (100 N, 200 N, 400 N, 600 N, 800 N) dan masa pembrekan yang berlainan (3, 6, 9, 12, 15 minit). Perubahan permukaan sampel diperhatikan selepas setiap kali menjalani ujian geseran dengan menggunakan teknik kemikroskopan elektron imbasan. Pada permulaan pembrekan, proses adunan bahan pindah berlaku. Pembrekan seterusnya menyebabkan berlaku urutan perubahan lapisan pindah seperti berikut; (i) pembentukan tampalan pindah, (ii) penjanaan lapisan menutupi permukaan secara menyeluruh, (iii) pembentukan lapisan pindah berbilang, dan (iv) lapisan pindah paparan lebur. Penelitian ke atas bahan yang dikaji menunjukkan darjah perubahan permukaan haus menjadi lebih intensif dengan peningkatan masa pembrekan dan beban kenaan. Kata kunci: pad brek; ujian geseran; MEI; tampalan pindah; lapisan pindah Surface microstructures of brake friction materials gradually change with increase in braking time and applied loads. Each sample is subjected to five different applied loads (100 N, 200 N, 400 N, 600 N, 800 N) and braking times (3, 6, 9, 12, 15 minutes). The surface changes were observed after each friction test by using scanning electron microscopy technique. A process of mixed transfer materials was observed upon the onset of braking. With subsequent brakings, the following sequence of changes on transfer materials was observed; (i) formation of patches of transfer material, (ii) generation of continuous transfer materials, (iii) formation of multilayer of transfer materials, and (iv) formation of transfer material that behaves like a fluid. Investigation on the SEM micrographs showed that the degree of surface changes became severe with increase in braking times and applied loads. Key words: brake pad; friction test; SEM; transfer patches; transfer layers

AbstractPerceptual decisions are complete when a continuously updated score of sensory evidence reaches a threshold. In Drosophila, αβ core Kenyon cells (αβc KCs) of the mushroom bodies integrate odor-evoked synaptic inputs to spike threshold at rates that parallel the speed of olfactory choices. Here we perform a causal test of the idea that the biophysical process of synaptic integration underlies the psychophysical process of bounded evidence accumulation in this system. Injections of single brief, EPSP-like depolarizations into the dendrites of αβc KCs during odor discrimination, using closed-loop control of a targeted opsin, accelerate decision times at a marginal cost of accuracy. Model comparisons favor a mechanism of temporal integration over extrema detection and suggest that the optogenetically evoked quanta are added to a growing total of sensory evidence, effectively lowering the decision bound. The subthreshold voltage dynamics of αβc KCs thus form an accumulator memory for sequential samples of information.

Thank you for the opportunity to serve on this committee. It appears the WFNS has assembled an all-star cast of neurosurgeons interested in Global Neurosurgery. I am honored to serve as External Relations Lead. Listed below are a few examples of projects the group is working on that fit with your deliverables (specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, time-based). I look forward to learning of other initiatives from the group as we develop synergies moving forward. It was noted that both the WFNS and the ISPN have Education Committees who produce educational courses either virtually or in person in various LMICs several times per year. I have spoken to President Oyesiku and Kenon Arnautovic, the Chair of Chairs, suggesting that rather than having two parallel processes performing the same task, that we consolidate these committees and have the ISPN serve as the Pediatric Neurosurgery Education Committee for the WFNS hence forth. Typically, in the past, the Committee chairs have been ISPN members. Both Nelson and Kenon have voiced agreement to that arrangement. Since the ISPN is already an international society with 530 members from around the globe, this should be acceptable without the ISPN having to “join” the WFNS. The agreement was that if any course produced a financial profit, those monies would be divided equally between the WFNS and the ISPN. To date, the ISPN has underwritten the costs of plane tickets for the speakers at these meetings, although the courses have all been virtual since the COVID pandemic. The local hosts have covered the costs of hotel, meals, etc. once the speakers are on location. To date I am not aware of any of these courses that have generated a financial profit. Obviously, the marketing and presentations at these teaching courses would be co-branded.

Dalam kajian ini, penilaian haus mekanikal ke atas bahan geseran separa logam untuk kegunaan kereta penumpang dikaji dengan menekan sampel kepada piring yang berpusing diperbuat daripada besi tuang kelabu pearlitik. Bagi setiap ujian, sampel dikenakan empat jangka masa pembrekan (3, 6, 9, dan 12 minit) dan empat beban kenaan (200, 400, 600 dan 800 N) yang berlainan. Kelajuan putaran piring brek dikekalkan malar sepanjang pengujian geseran pada 750 psm. Selepas setiap ujian, perubahan morfologi permukaan dan subpermukaan diperhatikan dengan menggunakan mikroskop elektron imbasan (MEI). Hasil kajian menunjukkan ciri-ciri berikut: (i) suhu permukaan meningkat dengan masa pembrekan dan selepas mencapai nilai maksimum, akhirnya sampai kepada keadaan stabil, (ii) pekali geseran telah meningkat pada permulaan pembrekan, kemudian menurun dengan masa pembrekan, dan seterusnya sampai kepada keadaan stabil, dan (iii) isipadu haus meningkat secara lelurus apabila beban kenaan di bawah 200 N dan/atau masa pembrekan di bawah 3 minit dan kedua-duanya seterusnya meningkat secara eksponen. Pemeriksaan mikrostruktur menunjukkan mekanisme haus beralih dengan peningkatan jangka masa pembrekan dan beban kenaan. Fenomena ini juga menyebabkan perubahan kepada sifat haus. Kata kunci: Pad brek, suhu permukaan, pekali geseran, haus, mekanisme haus In this work, a semi-metallic friction material for passenger cars was evaluated for mechanical wear by pressing the material against a rotating pearlitic gray cast iron brake disc. In each test, the sample was subjected to four different braking times (3, 6, 9, and 12 minutes) and four applied loads (200, 400, 600 and 800 N). The rotating velocity of the disc was kept constant throughout the friction tests at 750 rpm. After each test, the morphological changes on the surface and subsurface of the material were observed using Scanning Electron Microscopy (SEM). The following characteristics were observed: (i) the surface temperature increased with braking time and after reaching a maximum value, eventually arrived at a steady state, (ii) the friction coefficient increased at the early stages of braking, then decreased with braking time and thereafter reached steady state, and (iii) the wear volume increased linearly when the applied load was below 200 N and/or braking time was below 3 minutes or both, thereafter the volume increased exponentially. Microstructural examinations showed that the wear mechanism transisted with increase in braking times as well as applied loads. This phenomenon also resulted in changes of the wear behaviour. Key words: Brake pad, surface temperature, friction coefficient, wear, wear mechanism

Abstract Let $m_1 \geq m_2 \geq 2$ be integers. We consider subsets of the product symbolic sequence space $(\{0,\ldots ,m_1-1\} \times \{0,\ldots ,m_2-1\})^{\mathbb {N}^*}$ that are invariant under the action of the semigroup of multiplicative integers. These sets are defined following Kenyon, Peres, and Solomyak and using a fixed integer $q \geq 2$ . We compute the Hausdorff and Minkowski dimensions of the projection of these sets onto an affine grid of the unit square. The proof of our Hausdorff dimension formula proceeds via a variational principle over some class of Borel probability measures on the studied sets. This extends well-known results on self-affine Sierpiński carpets. However, the combinatoric arguments we use in our proofs are more elaborate than in the self-similar case and involve a new parameter, namely $j = \lfloor \log _q ( {\log (m_1)}/{\log (m_2)} ) \rfloor $ . We then generalize our results to the same subsets defined in dimension $d \geq 2$ . There, the situation is even more delicate and our formulas involve a collection of $2d-3$ parameters.

This article is a result of developmental research of PPE (Peer, Tutoring, Presentation, and Evaluation) model for remedy several science misconceptions: work, kinetic energy, the potential energy of junior high school students. The research aims to describe the science misconceptions of students and the effectiveness PPE model to remedy students’ misconceptions. The research was conducted by 31 students of SMP 1 Kencong, Jember Regency, who had misconceptions of those concepts. Technique for collecting data was test and interview. The data collection were analysed qualitatively descriptive. Findings of the research were: Most of the students had three kinds of misconceptions, they said that if a body has a force, it also has work; if velocity of body increased three times, so the kinetic energy increased three times; in freely falling bodies, when an object approaches the ground, it has null kinetic energy and high potential energy. The effectiveness of the PPE model to remedy those students’ misconceptions can be seen from positive students’ responses to the implementation of the model to remedy their misconceptions and the average of the number of students’ misconceptions decrease from 100% to 15,4%. The study can be concluded that the PPE model effective for remedy students’ misconceptions of work, kinetic energy, and potential energy concepts.

Tenaga kinetik yang terhasil semasa proses pembrekan ditukar kepada tenaga haba dan bahan pelapik brek dan pad brek menyerap tenaga haba sebelum dilepaskan ke atmosfera. Tenaga haba yang terkumpul boleh menyebabkan bahan pelapik geseran automotif mengalami suhu yang tinggi dan memberi kesan kepada prestasi pembrekan. Dalam kajian ini, proses pembrekan disimulasi dengan menekan sepasang pad brek ke atas piring brek besi tuang kelabu pearlitik yang berpusing pada kelajuan pusingan malar 750 pusing seminit. Sampel dikenakan pembrekan berterusan dan berkala. Setiap sampel semasa pembrekan berterusan dikenakan lima masa pembrekan iaitu 3, 6, 9, 12, dan 15 minit dan beban kenaan 100, 200, 400, 600 dan 800 N. Manakala, setiap sampel semasa pembrekan berkala pula dikenakan kepada beban kenaan 600 N dan empat masa pembrekan berlainan iaitu 400, 800, 1200 dan 1600 saat. Seterusnya setiap sampel diperhatikan dengan menggunakan Kemikroskopan Elektron Imbasan (KEI). Pemeriksaan mikrostruktur menunjukkan ketidakstabilan bermula dengan pembetulan bebutir haba pada kawasan sentuhan hasil daripada suhu yang tinggi terjana semasa pembrekan. Haba terkumpul pada kawasan sentuhan menghasilkan tegasan haba yang mana akan menindih ke atas tegasan mekanikal, menyebabkan penjanaan mikroretak haba. Berdasarkan kepada keputusan mikrostruktur, dicerapkan bahawa mikroretak merambat, membesar dan akhirnya bertaut antara satu sama lain membentuk mikroretak berbilang apabila masa pembrekan ditingkatkan. Seterusnya, zarah haus tersingkir dari permukaan haus setelah mencapai jarak kritikal. Kata kunci: Pad brek, ketidakstabilan haba, bebutir haba, micricetak haba, haus In braking process, kinetic energy is converted to heat energy and the friction lining materials and brake pads absorb this heat energy before being released to the atmosphere. This accumulated heat energy may cause the automotive friction lining materials to experience high temperatures and this may affect the braking performance. In this study, the braking process was simulated by pressing a pair of brake pads against a rotating pearlitic gray cast iron brake disc at a constant rotating speed of 750 rpm. The test samples were subjected to continuous and intermittent brakings. In continuous braking, each sample was subjected to five different braking times of 3, 6, 9, 12, and 15 minutes and applied loads of 100, 200, 400, 600 and 800 N, whereas, in intermittent braking each sample was subjected to an applied load of 600 N and four different braking times of 400, 800, 1200 and 1600 seconds. Each sample was then observed under the Scanning Electron Microscope (SEM). Microstructural examinations showed that thermoinstability starts with the formation of thermogrannules at the contact area as a result of high temperature generated during braking. Accumulated heat on the contact area introduced thermal stresses which will then superimpose onto the mechanical stress, resulting in the generation of thermomicrocracks. Based on the microstructural results, it was postulated that microcrack propagated, grew and finally joined together to form multiple microcracks as the braking time increased. Subsequently, upon reaching a critical length, the wear particles are disposed from the wear surface. Key words: Brake pads, thermoinstability, thermogranules, thermomicrocrack, wear

Field studies were carried out during the April-November period of 2018-2019 in order to determine the phytophagous and predatory insect species living on ornamental trees and shrubs in Burdur city center parks. 15 parks located in the city center were chosen as the study area. The parks were visited three-four times throughout the year and specimens of insects and host plants were collected and brought to the laboratory for preparation and diagnosis. A total of 34 plant taxa were examined throughout the study. As a result, totally 55 phytophagous insect species were identified from three orders and 19 families [Pseudococcidae 1, Diaspididae 4, Marchalinidae 1, Tingidae 3, Psyllidae 2, Cicadellidae 3, Miridae 7, Lygaeidae 6, Coreidae 2, Rhapolidae 2, Pentatomidae 4, Cixidae 1 (Hemiptera), Apionidae 3, Chrysomelidae 4, Curculionidae 8, Malachiidae 1, Elateridae 1 (Coleoptera), Tortricidae 1, and Notodontidae 1 (Lepidoptera)]. Among them, the most common and abundant species was Marchalina hellenica (Gennadius, 1883) from the Marchalinidae family. We report Anthocomus equestris (Fabricius, 1781) from the Malachiidae family as a new record from Turkey. Totally 18 predator species were identified from seven families [Nabidae 1, Miridae 1, Anthocoridae 2, Coccinellidae 10, Cantharidae 2, Srypidae 1, and Forficulidae 1]. We identified 83 interactions between phytophagous insects and host plants, and 26 interactions among phytophagous insects, host plants, and predator species.

Anatolian geography has hosted many civilizations which have been able to carry their beliefs, languages, customs and traditions, lifestyles and traces as original pieces in the multicultural mosaic of Anatolia. These "ancient" values, which have been transferred to the present day as cultural heritage, constitute the life codes of the societies that make them up. On the other hand, as the smallest part of society, man, who had to leave the space that he had created, shaped and kept alive with his own hands in one way or another from ancient times to the present, followed the traces of the society to which he most belonged, searched for its essence and questioned his "belonging". In this context, while the study seeks to find the spatial identity infrastructure, which includes the life codes of the Anatolian geography, in the social lives of societies, also aims to question the problem of belonging in context of the “forced migration” which is one of the most dramatic events in history that displaces societies in the process of nationization and detaches people from their "space”, to be able to read the place through the cultural accumulation and transfer of “exchanged lives”, to find the “lost” in the dimension of culture-space-time. There is no doubt that Kayaköy, which was chosen as the study area for this purpose deserves this attention with its experience of the forced migration in all its reality and nakedness, history, culture, unique architectural style and texture, locality, "sustainability" of the local, testimony of the period in question, abandonment and finally the “accounts” made on it by powers from different segments.

The phenomenon of place attachment refers to the emotional bonds people have with the places they live. This concept is a multidimensional and complex one as it includes variables such as feelings, understanding, perception and behavior patterns. Studies reveal that people feel more comfortable in places similar to the places they grew up in, and individuals' stress levels are mostly reduced in environments similar to their homes (Adevi and Grahn 2011). Lewicka (2011, p.223) states that although the studies on the place attachment should be include “people, processes and places”, the majority of the research focuses only on the psychological and sociological dimensions of the subject. In this framework, she underlines that a 'Place Theory' examining 'Place' has not yet been formed and there are few studies examining the relationships between place attachment and 'place' properties. This article aims to reveal the relationships between the existence of green areas and the phenomenon of place attachment, as part of a comprehensive research that investigates the place attachment theory and the characteristics of places. The study area is Kuzguncuk neighborhood, one of the old Bosphorus villages on the Asian side of Istanbul. The neighborhood is located between Beylerbeyi, another old Bosphorus village, in the north, and the historical city center of Üsküdar in the south. One of the most important urban image elements of the Kuzguncuk neighborhood is the vegetable garden (Bostan), formerly known as "Ilya's Garden". For Kuzguncuk residents, Bostan is both a frequently used green area and a place of collective memory of the neighborhood. For this reason, the Bostan area in the neighborhood, which started to become in attractive since the-mid 1980s, has been tried to be opened to development many times. However, this threat was eliminated each time with the efforts of the residents of the neighborhood. Within the scope of the research, the results of the survey conducted in Kuzguncuk in June 2016 with the participation of 400 people will be shared

Türkistan’da ortaya çıkan, Horasan (İran)’da gelişimini sürdüren Türk sosyo-kültürel hayatı, Anadolu fetih hareketleriyle birlikte İslami olmayan bir kültür anlayışı ve yerel geleneklerin de etkisinde kalarak özellikle günümüz Doğu Anadolu Bölgesi’nde yeni bir görünüm elde etmiştir. Bu yeni sosyo-kültürel hayatı görebildiğimiz en önemli Türk kentlerinden biri de Erzurum’dur. Kent, coğrafi konumu itibariyle her dönem büyük devletlerin ilgisini çeken bir yerleşim yeri olmuştur. Türk fethinden sonra da bu önemli konumunu korumuş ve etkisini artırarak devam ettirmiştir. Anadolu’nun doğusunda yer alan, giriş kapısı özelliğinden dolayı çok kereler saldırılara uğramış olan Erzurum, bu saldırılara rağmen meydana getirdiği kent kültürü ve sosyo-kültürel hayat sayesinde ortaçağ boyunca Türkler için önemli kentler arasında yer almayı başarmıştır. Bu çalışmada ilk olarak Erzurum’un fiziki yapısını oluşturan unsurlar, kentte yaşayan halkın nüfus yapısı, kent kültürünü oluşturan gruplar ve kentin yönetim şekli üzerinde durulmuştur. İkinci olarak ise kentte yaşayan ahalinin günlük faaliyetleri; evlilik kurumu, Erzurum evleri, cenaze merasimleri ve misafirperverlik başlıkları altında ele alınarak Türk toplumunda sosyo-kültürel hayatın ortaçağ’da nasıl geliştiği Erzurum özelinde değerlendirilmiştir. Turkish socio-cultural life, which emerged in the geography of Turkestan and developed in Khorasan, has achieved a new appearance, especially in today's Eastern Anatolia Region, under the influence of a non-Islamic cultural understanding and local traditions together with the Anatolian conquest movements. Erzurum is one of the most important Turkish cities where we can see this new socio-cultural life. The city is a settlement that has been important in every period due to its geographical location. After the Turkish conquest, it maintained this important position and continued to increase its influence. Erzurum, which has been attacked many times due to being the entrance gate of Anatolia, managed to be among the most important cities for the Turks throughout the Middle Ages, thanks to the urban culture and socio-cultural life it created despite this situation. In this study, firstly, the elements that make up the physical structure of Erzurum, the population structure of the people living in the city, the groups that make up the urban culture and the city's management style are emphasized. Secondly, the daily activities of the people living in the city were discussed under the titles of marriage, Erzurum houses, funeral ceremonies and hospitality, and how the socio-cultural life in Turkish society developed in the Middle Ages was examined.

OPSOMMING Kommunikasie in die 21ste eeu het grootliks multimodaal geword. 'n Verskeidenheid primêre modusse, byvoorbeeld geskrewe teks, mondelinge vertelling, beweging, kleur, klank en musiek, word ook elektronies "vertaal" en sekondêr deur rekenaars, selfone en tablette afgelewer. Een van die genres wat gekenmerk word deur multimodaliteit is oudiovisuele aanbieding. In studente se aanbiedings is spraak gewoonlik die primêre modus, en word aangevul deur teks, animasie (beweging), foto's en kleur. Die mondelinge aanbieding tree as deel van 'n multimodale ensemble op, waar die unieke eienskappe van elke modus benut word om betekenis oor te dra. Eers gee ek 'n definisie van die konsep "handgebaar", gevolg deur 'n uiteensetting van algemeen erkende gebareteorieë en tipologieë wat gebare indeel volgens semiotiese gebaretipes, handigheid (links, regs of beide), gekonvensionaliseerde handvorme en palm-oriëntasies, en beweging en posisie in die gebareveld. Daarna volg 'n beskrywing van 'n navorsingsprojek wat berus op die analise van ko-taalgebare in 'n korpus van 17 gevideo-graveerde mondelinge aanbiedings deur teologiestudente. Die artikel word afgesluit deur puntsgewyse advies vir die gebruik van gebare in studente se oudiovisuele aanbiedings. Die advies is sowel gegrond op teorieë en tipologieë van gebare as op die analise van die korpus. Waar dit relevant is, word verwys na handleidings oor kommunikasie en openbare redevoering. Trefwoorde: lyftaal; deiktiese teken; handgebaar; ikoon, metafoor; slagbeweging; diskoersgebaar; embleem; multimodaliteit ABSTRACT Communication in the 21st century has become multimodal. A variety of primary modes, including text, narration, movement, colour and sound are also "translated" and delivered in secondary modes through electronic devices. One of the genres that is characterised by multimodality is audio-visual presentation. In students 'presentations, speech is normally the primary mode, supported by text, movement, still pictures and colour. In oral presentation, physical gestures, gaze and other body language function as part of multimodal ensembles. This article focuses, in particular, on the hand gestures that form part of modal ensembles. In scholarly literature, the word "gesture" is used to imply that the actor has some voluntary control over a movement, and its meaning. Gestures are "actions" demonstrating "features of manifest deliberate expressiveness" (Kendon, 2004:14, 15), which involve the hand and arm movements humans make when they speak (Seyfeddinpur, 2011:148; Roth, 2001:368). Much of the theoretical literature on gestures deals with how they are cognitively processed. De Ruiter (2007) distinguishes three main "architectures" that account for different viewpoints on the processing of manual gestures: Window Architecture (Beattie, 2003) assumes that gestures come straight from the mind, without mediation by language. Language Architecture assumes that the language a person speaks affects their gesture. Postcard Architecture implies that words, speech and gesture arise together from an underlying propositional representation that has both visual and linguistic aspects (Tenjes, 2001:317). Kendon (1980; 2004) and McNeill (1992:2) have consistently emphasised the unity of speech and gesture. Postcard Architecture resonates with thinking in recent and current studies in multimoda-lity, that there are no distinct semiotic systems in the human brain, but rather one integrated repertoire of linguistic and semiotic practices from which communicators constantly draw (Garcia, 2009; Garcia & Li, 2014; Canagarajah, 2011; Mazak, 2017). Sign makers make meaning by drawing on a variety of modes that combine with others in "ensembles" (Kress & Van Leeuwen, 1996; 2001; Kress, 2010). However, there is still no general consensus on whether gestures primarily explicate the thought processes of the speaker, or intentionally communicate information to the audience or interlocutor, or both. For the purpose of this article it is deemed sufficient to recognise that gestures constitute part of multimodal ensembles, in which oral discourse is the primary mode of communication; that gestures do have communicative value; and that people use gestures in accordance with their communicative goals (Müller, Bressem & Ladewig, 2013:713). The majority of scholars today view language and gestures as semiotic systems of which the signs have form and meaning. It is also generally accepted that gesture studies need their own vocabularies in order to talk about their mode-specific formal characteristics. Below, an overview is given of the most cited gesture typologies and the nomenclatures for describing some of the formal characteristics of gestures. From the various gesture typologies, in particular McNeill (1992), (Tenjes (2001) and Müller (1998; 2004) the following typology has been distilled to serve as a basis for the semantic categorisation of gestures: Representational Concrete: Iconic Abstract: Metaphorical Referential Concrete (referent present in the discursive space) Concrete (referent absent from the discursive space) Abstract (metaphorical) Emblems Beats Discourse gestures The article also discusses aspects of gestures that resemble syntax in language, viz. handedness (left, right or both), semi-conventionalised hand shapes and orientation ofthe palm and fingers, as well as position of gestures in the gesture space. Subsequently a description is given of a research project that analyses co-speech gestures in a corpus of 17 video-recorded group presentations by first-year students of theology registered for the module "Academic Literacy for Theology" on the topic "The evaluation of ten church websites according to criteria from a published theology article " (Waters & Tindall, 2010). Data were captured during three different cycles: • Extracting the speech from each video using the software program Subtitle Edit, saved in a Microsoft Excel file, and edited. • Dividing the text according to presentations and (speech) turns by group members, and saved in separate Word documents. • Watching each video again, while conducting the following actions: Dividing all the relevant gestures according to the five main types and their subtypes and inserting them as still pictures into the relevant files, for example "metaphor", "abstract deixis". During the analysis, all captured images of the gestures demonstrating "manifest deliberate expressiveness" (Kendon, 2004:15) were further categorised according to their formal characteristics (handedness, position in gesture space and hand shape). A number of representative examples from each of the main typological categories (deictic, iconic and metaphoric) were described in detail. This was done by replaying the relevant video clip a number of times, listening to the speech, and interpreting the information with reference to the literature review. The following table gives a brief overview of the findings regarding handedness, position in the gesture space, and the hand shape of the 232 analysed gestures. The table shows that both hands are used for approximately two thirds of the iconic and metaphorical gestures, while deictic gestures are predominantly produced with only one hand. This is not surprising, given the referential (demonstrative) purpose of deictic gestures (for which only one hand is necessary), as opposed to iconic and metaphorical gestures, which have a representative function, best achieved by using both hands. Findings regarding the gesture space is well aligned with findings in the literature. Regarding hand shape, the C- and flat C-shape occur in 17% of the iconic gestures, while the shallow cup occurs in similar frequencies (between 10,4 and 13,1%) across all three main typological categories. An unexpected, but positive, finding was that the open hand is the preferred shape for deictic gestures (63%), and not the pistol shape, which is strongly discouraged in the advice literature on the use of gestures in presentations. The article is concluded by advice for the use of gestures in students' audiovisual presentations. The advice is based on the gesture theories and typologies discussed earlier, as well as on the analysis of the corpus. Keywords: body language; deictic sign; hand gesture; icon; metaphor; beat; discourse gesture; emblem; multimodality

Cultural sociologists (Bourdieu; DiMaggio, “Cultural Capital”, “Classification”; Gans; Lamont & Foumier; Halle; Erickson) wrote about high culture and popular culture in an attempt to explain the growing social and economic inequalities, to find consensus on culture hierarchies, and to analyze cultural complexities. Halle states that this categorisation of culture into “high culture” and “popular culture” underlined most of the debate on culture in the last fifty years. Gans contends that both high culture and popular culture are stereotypes, public forms of culture or taste cultures, each sharing “common aesthetic values and standards of tastes” (8). However, this article is not concerned with these categorisations, or macro analysis. Rather, it is a reflection piece that inquires if opera, which is usually considered high culture, has become more equal to popular culture, and why some directors change the time and place of opera plots, whereas others will stay true to the original setting of the story. I do not consider these productions “adaptations,” but “post-modern morphologies,” and I will refer to this later in the paper. In other words, the paper is seeking to explain a social phenomenon and explore the underlying motives by quoting interviews with directors. The word ‘opera’ is defined in Elson’s Music Dictionary as: “a form of musical composition evolved shortly before 1600, by some enthusiastic Florentine amateurs who sought to bring back the Greek plays to the modern stage” (189). Hence, it was an experimentation to revive Greek music and drama believed to be the ideal way to express emotions (Grout 186). It is difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when stage directors started changing the time and place of the original settings of operas. The practice became more common after World War II, and Peter Brook’s Covent Garden productions of Boris Godunov (1948) and Salome (1949) are considered the prototypes of this practice (Sutcliffe 19-20). Richard Wagner’s grandsons, the brothers Wieland and Wolfgang Wagner are cited in the music literature as using technology and modern innovations in staging and design beginning in the early 1950s. Brief Background into the History of Opera Grout contends that opera began as an attempt to heighten the dramatic expression of language by intensifying the natural accents of speech through melody supported by simple harmony. In the late 1590s, the Italian composer Jacopo Peri wrote what is considered to be the first opera, but most of it has been lost. The first surviving complete opera is Euridice, a version of the Orpheus myth that Peri and Giulio Caccini jointly set to music in 1600. The first composer to understand the possibilities inherent in this new musical form was Claudio Monteverdi, who in 1607 wrote Orfeo. Although it was based on the same story as Euridice, it was expanded to a full five acts. Early opera was meant for small, private audiences, usually at court; hence it began as an elitist genre. After thirty years of being private, in 1637, opera went public with the opening of the first public opera house, Teatro di San Cassiano, in Venice, and the genre quickly became popular. Indeed, Monteverdi wrote his last two operas, Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria and L’incoronazione di Poppea for the Venetian public, thereby leading the transition from the Italian courts to the ‘public’. Both operas are still performed today. Poppea was the first opera to be based on a historical rather than a mythological or allegorical subject. Sutcliffe argues that opera became popular because it was a new mixture of means: new words, new music, new methods of performance. He states, “operatic fashion through history may be a desire for novelty, new formulas displacing old” (65). By the end of the 17th century, Venice alone had ten opera houses that had produced more than 350 operas. Wealthy families purchased season boxes, but inexpensive tickets made the genre available to persons of lesser means. The genre spread quickly, and various styles of opera developed. In Naples, for example, music rather than the libretto dominated opera. The genre spread to Germany and France, each developing the genre to suit the demands of its audiences. For example, ballet became an essential component of French opera. Eventually, “opera became the profligate art as large casts and lavish settings made it the most expensive public entertainment. It was the only art that without embarrassment called itself ‘grand’” (Boorstin 467). Contemporary Opera Productions Opera continues to be popular. According to a 2002 report released by the National Endowment for the Arts, 6.6 million adults attended at least one live opera performance in 2002, and 37.6 million experienced opera on television, video, radio, audio recording or via the Internet. Some think that it is a dying art form, while others think to the contrary, that it is a living art form because of its complexity and “ability to probe deeper into the human experience than any other art form” (Berger 3). Some directors change the setting of operas with perhaps the most famous contemporary proponent of this approach being Peter Sellars, who made drastic changes to three of Mozart’s most famous operas. Le Nozze di Figaro, originally set in 18th-century Seville, was set by Sellars in a luxury apartment in the Trump Tower in New York City; Sellars set Don Giovanni in contemporary Spanish Harlem rather than 17th century Seville; and for Cosi Fan Tutte, Sellars chose a diner on Cape Cod rather than 18th century Naples. As one of the more than six million Americans who attend live opera each year, I have experienced several updated productions, which made me reflect on the convergence or cross-over between high culture and popular culture. In 2000, I attended a production of Don Giovanni at the Estates Theatre in Prague, the very theatre where Mozart conducted the world premiere in 1787. In this production, Don Giovanni was a fashion designer known as “Don G” and drove a BMW. During the 1999-2000 season, Los Angeles Opera engaged film director Bruce Beresford to direct Verdi’s Rigoletto. Beresford updated the original setting of 16th century Mantua to 20th century Hollywood. The lead tenor, rather than being the Duke of Mantua, was a Hollywood agent known as “Duke Mantua.” In the first act, just before Marullo announces to the Duke’s guests that the jester Rigoletto has taken a mistress, he gets the news via his cell phone. Director Ian Judge set the 2004 production of Le Nozze di Figaro in the 1950s. In one of the opening productions of the 2006-07 LA opera season, Vincent Patterson also chose the 1950s for Massenet’s Manon rather than France in the 1720s. This allowed the title character to appear in the fourth act dressed as Marilyn Monroe. Excerpts from the dress rehearsal can be seen on YouTube. Most recently, I attended a production of Ariane et Barbe-Bleu at the Paris Opera. The original setting of the Maeterlinck play is in Duke Bluebeard’s castle, but the time period is unclear. However, it is doubtful that the 1907 opera based on an 1899 play was meant to be set in what appeared to be a mental institution equipped with surveillance cameras whose screens were visible to the audience. The critical and audience consensus seemed to be that the opera was a musical success but a failure as a production. James Shore summed up the audience reaction: “the production team was vociferously booed and jeered by much of the house, and the enthusiastic applause that had greeted the singers and conductor, immediately went nearly silent when they came on stage”. It seems to me that a new class-related taste has emerged; the opera genre has shot out a subdivision which I shall call “post-modern morphologies,” that may appeal to a larger pool of people. Hence, class, age, gender, and race are becoming more important factors in conceptualising opera productions today than in the past. I do not consider these productions as new adaptations because the libretto and the music are originals. What changes is the fact that both text and sound are taken to a higher dimension by adding iconographic images that stimulate people’s brains. When asked in an interview why he often changes the setting of an opera, Ian Judge commented, “I try to find the best world for the story and characters to operate in, and I think you have to find a balance between the period the author set it in, the period he conceived it in and the nature of theatre and audiences at that time, and the world we live in.” Hence, the world today is complex, interconnected, borderless and timeless because of advanced technologies, and updated opera productions play with symbols that offer multiple meanings that reflect the world we live in. It may be that television and film have influenced opera production. Character tenor Graham Clark recently observed in an interview, “Now the situation has changed enormously. Television and film have made a lot of things totally accessible which they were not before and in an entirely different perception.” Director Ian Judge believes that television and film have affected audience expectations in opera. “I think audiences who are brought up on television, which is bad acting, and movies, which is not that good acting, perhaps require more of opera than stand and deliver, and I have never really been happy with someone who just stands and sings.” Sociologist Wendy Griswold states that culture reflects social reality and the meaning of a particular cultural object (such as opera), originates “in the social structures and social patterns it reflects” (22). Screens of various technologies are embedded in our lives and normalised as extensions of our bodies. In those opera productions in which directors change the time and place of opera plots, use technology, and are less concerned with what the composer or librettist intended (which we can only guess), the iconographic images create multi valances, textuality similar to Mikhail Bakhtin’s notion of multiplicity of voices. Hence, a plurality of meanings. Plàcido Domingo, the Eli and Edyth Broad General Director of Los Angeles Opera, seeks to take advantage of the company’s proximity to the film industry. This is evidenced by his having engaged Bruce Beresford to direct Rigoletto and William Friedkin to direct Ariadne auf Naxos, Duke Bluebeard’s Castle and Gianni Schicchi. Perhaps the most daring example of Domingo’s approach was convincing Garry Marshall, creator of the television sitcom Happy Days and who directed the films Pretty Woman and The Princess Diaries, to direct Jacques Offenbach’s The Grand Duchess of Gerolstein to open the company’s 20th anniversary season. When asked how Domingo convinced him to direct an opera for the first time, Marshall responded, “he was insistent that one, people think that opera is pretty elitist, and he knew without insulting me that I was not one of the elitists; two, he said that you gotta make a funny opera; we need more comedy in the operetta and opera world.” Marshall rewrote most of the dialogue and performed it in English, but left the “songs” untouched and in the original French. He also developed numerous sight gags and added characters including a dog named Morrie and the composer Jacques Offenbach himself. Did it work? Christie Grimstad wrote, “if you want an evening filled with witty music, kaleidoscopic colors and hilariously good singing, seek out The Grand Duchess. You will not be disappointed.” The FanFaire Website commented on Domingo’s approach of using television and film directors to direct opera: You’ve got to hand it to Plàcido Domingo for having the vision to draw on Hollywood’s vast pool of directorial talent. Certainly something can be gained from the cross-fertilization that could ensue from this sort of interaction between opera and the movies, two forms of entertainment (elitist and perennially struggling for funds vs. popular and, it seems, eternally rich) that in Los Angeles have traditionally lived separate lives on opposite sides of the tracks. A wider audience, for example, never a problem for the movies, can only mean good news for the future of opera. So, did the Marshall Plan work? Purists of course will always want their operas and operettas ‘pure and unadulterated’. But with an audience that seemed to have as much fun as the stellar cast on stage, it sure did. Critic Alan Rich disagrees, calling Marshall “a representative from an alien industry taking on an artistic product, not to create something innovative and interesting, but merely to insult.” Nevertheless, the combination of Hollywood and opera seems to work. The Los Angeles Opera reported that the 2005-2006 season was its best ever: “ticket revenues from the season, which ended in June, exceeded projected figures by nearly US$900,000. Seasonal attendance at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion stood at more than 86% of the house’s capacity, the largest percentage in the opera’s history.” Domingo continues with the Hollywood connection in the upcoming 2008-2009 season. He has reengaged William Friedkin to direct two of Puccini’s three operas titled collectively as Il Trittico. Friedkin will direct the two tragedies, Il Tabarro and Suor Angelica. Although Friedkin has already directed a production of the third opera in Il Trittico for Los Angeles, the comedy Gianni Schicchi, Domingo convinced Woody Allen to make his operatic directorial debut with this work. This can be viewed as another example of the desire to make opera and popular culture more equal. However, some, like Alan Rich, may see this attempt as merely insulting rather than interesting and innovative. With a top ticket price in Los Angeles of US$238 per seat, opera seems to continue to be elitist. Berger (2005) concurs with this idea and gives his rationale for elitism: there are rich people who support and attend the opera; it is an imported art from Europe that causes some marginalisation; opera is not associated with something being ‘moral,’ a concept engrained in American culture; it is expensive to produce and usually funded by kings, corporations, rich people; and the opera singers are rare –usually one in a million who will have the vocal quality to sing opera arias. Furthermore, Nicholas Kenyon commented in the early 1990s: “there is suspicion that audiences are now paying more and more money for their seats to see more and more money spent on stage” (Kenyon 3). Still, Garry Marshall commented that the budget for The Grand Duchess was US$2 million, while his budget for Runaway Bride was US$72 million. Kenyon warns, “Such popularity for opera may be illusory. The enjoyment of one striking aria does not guarantee the survival of an art form long regarded as over-elitist, over-recondite, and over-priced” (Kenyon 3). A recent development is the Metropolitan Opera’s decision to simulcast live opera performances from the Met stage to various cinemas around the world. These HD transmissions began with the 2006-2007 season when six performances were broadcast. In the 2007-2008 season, the schedule has expanded to eight live Saturday matinee broadcasts plus eight recorded encores broadcast the following day. According to The Los Angeles Times, “the Met’s experiment of merging film with live performance has created a new art form” (Aslup). Whether or not this is a “new art form,” it certainly makes world-class live opera available to countless persons who cannot travel to New York and pay the price for tickets, when they are available. In the US alone, more than 350 cinemas screen these live HD broadcasts from the Met. Top ticket price for these performances at the Met is US$375, while the lowest price is US$27 for seats with only a partial view. Top price for the HD transmissions in participating cinemas is US$22. This experiment with live simulcasts makes opera more affordable and may increase its popularity; combined with updated stagings, opera can engage a much larger audience and hope for even a mass consumption. Is opera moving closer and closer to popular culture? There still seems to be an aura of elitism and snobbery about opera. However, Plàcido Domingo’s attempt to join opera with Hollywood is meant to break the barriers between high and popular culture. The practice of updating opera settings is not confined to Los Angeles. As mentioned earlier, the idea can be traced to post World War II England, and is quite common in Europe. Examples include Erich Wonder’s approach to Wagner’s Ring, making Valhalla, the mythological home of the gods and typically a mountaintop, into the spaceship Valhalla, as well as my own experience with Don Giovanni in Prague and Ariane et Barbe-Bleu in Paris. Indeed, Sutcliffe maintains, “Great classics in all branches of the arts are repeatedly being repackaged for a consumerist world that is increasingly and neurotically self-obsessed” (61). Although new operas are being written and performed, most contemporary performances are of operas by Verdi, Mozart, and Puccini (www.operabase.com). This means that audiences see the same works repeated many times, but in different interpretations. Perhaps this is why Sutcliffe contends, “since the 1970s it is the actual productions that have had the novelty value grabbed by the headlines. Singing no longer predominates” (Sutcliffe 57). If then, as Sutcliffe argues, “operatic fashion through history may be a desire for novelty, new formulas displacing old” (Sutcliffe 65), then the contemporary practice of changing the original settings is simply the latest “new formula” that is replacing the old ones. If there are no new words or new music, then what remains are new methods of performance, hence the practice of changing time and place. Opera is a complex art form that has evolved over the past 400 years and continues to evolve, but will it survive? The underlining motives for directors changing the time and place of opera performances are at least three: for aesthetic/artistic purposes, financial purposes, and to reach an audience from many cultures, who speak different languages, and who have varied tastes. These three reasons are interrelated. In 1996, Sutcliffe wrote that there has been one constant in all the arguments about opera productions during the preceding two decades: “the producer’s wish to relate the works being staged to contemporary circumstances and passions.” Although that sounds like a purely aesthetic reason, making opera relevant to new, multicultural audiences and thereby increasing the bottom line seems very much a part of that aesthetic. It is as true today as it was when Sutcliffe made the observation twelve years ago (60-61). My own speculation is that opera needs to attract various audiences, and it can only do so by appealing to popular culture and engaging new forms of media and technology. Erickson concludes that the number of upper status people who are exclusively faithful to fine arts is declining; high status people consume a variety of culture while the lower status people are limited to what they like. Research in North America, Europe, and Australia, states Erickson, attest to these trends. My answer to the question can stage directors make opera and popular culture “equal” is yes, and they can do it successfully. Perhaps Stanley Sharpless summed it up best: After his Eden triumph, When the Devil played his ace, He wondered what he could do next To irk the human race, So he invented Opera, With many a fiendish grin, To mystify the lowbrows, And take the highbrows in. References The Grand Duchess. 2005. 3 Feb. 2008 < http://www.ffaire.com/Duchess/index.htm >.Aslup, Glenn. “Puccini’s La Boheme: A Live HD Broadcast from the Met.” Central City Blog Opera 7 Apr. 2008. 24 Apr. 2008 < http://www.centralcityopera.org/blog/2008/04/07/puccini%E2%80%99s- la-boheme-a-live-hd-broadcast-from-the-met/ >.Berger, William. Puccini without Excuses. New York: Vintage, 2005.Boorstin, Daniel. The Creators: A History of Heroes of the Imagination. New York: Random House, 1992.Bourdieu, Pierre. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1984.Clark, Graham. “Interview with Graham Clark.” The KCSN Opera House, 88.5 FM. 11 Aug. 2006.DiMaggio, Paul. “Cultural Capital and School Success.” American Sociological Review 47 (1982): 189-201.DiMaggio, Paul. “Classification in Art.”_ American Sociological Review_ 52 (1987): 440-55.Elson, C. Louis. “Opera.” Elson’s Music Dictionary. Boston: Oliver Ditson, 1905.Erickson, H. Bonnie. “The Crisis in Culture and Inequality.” In W. Ivey and S. J. Tepper, eds. Engaging Art: The Next Great Transformation of America’s Cultural Life. New York: Routledge, 2007.Fanfaire.com. “At Its 20th Anniversary Celebration, the Los Angeles Opera Had a Ball with The Grand Duchess.” 24 Apr. 2008 < http://www.fanfaire.com/Duchess/index.htm >.Gans, J. Herbert. Popular Culture and High Culture: An Analysis and Evaluation of Taste. New York: Basic Books, 1977.Grimstad, Christie. Concerto Net.com. 2005. 12 Jan. 2008 < http://www.concertonet.com/scripts/review.php?ID_review=3091 >.Grisworld, Wendy. Cultures and Societies in a Changing World. Thousand Oaks, CA: Pine Forge Press, 1994.Grout, D. Jay. A History of Western Music. Shorter ed. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc, 1964.Halle, David. “High and Low Culture.” The Blackwell Encyclopedia of Sociology. London: Blackwell, 2006.Judge, Ian. “Interview with Ian Judge.” The KCSN Opera House, 88.5 FM. 22 Mar. 2006.Harper, Douglas. Online Etymology Dictionary. 2001. 19 Nov. 2006 < http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=opera&searchmode=none >.Kenyon, Nicholas. “Introduction.” In A. Holden, N. Kenyon and S. Walsh, eds. The Viking Opera Guide. New York: Penguin, 1993.Lamont, Michele, and Marcel Fournier. Cultivating Differences: Symbolic Boundaries and the Making of Inequality. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1992.Lord, M.G. “Shlemiel! Shlemozzle! And Cue the Soprano.” The New York Times 4 Sep. 2005.Los Angeles Opera. “LA Opera General Director Placido Domingo Announces Results of Record-Breaking 20th Anniversary Season.” News release. 2006.Marshall, Garry. “Interview with Garry Marshall.” The KCSN Opera House, 88.5 FM. 31 Aug. 2005.National Endowment for the Arts. 2002 Survey of Public Participation in the Arts. Research Division Report #45. 5 Feb. 2008 < http://www.nea.gov/pub/NEASurvey2004.pdf >.NCM Fanthom. “The Metropolitan Opera HD Live.” 2 Feb. 2008 < http://fathomevents.com/details.aspx?seriesid=622&gclid= CLa59NGuspECFQU6awodjiOafA >.Opera Today. James Sobre: Ariane et Barbe-Bleue and Capriccio in Paris – Name This Stage Piece If You Can. 5 Feb. 2008 < http://www.operatoday.com/content/2007/09/ariane_et_barbe_1.php >.Rich, Alan. “High Notes, and Low.” LA Weekly 15 Sep. 2005. 6 May 2008 < http://www.laweekly.com/stage/a-lot-of-night-music/high-notes-and-low/8160/ >.Sharpless, Stanley. “A Song against Opera.” In E. O. Parrott, ed. How to Be Tremendously Tuned in to Opera. New York: Penguin, 1990.Shore, James. Opera Today. 2007. 4 Feb. 2008 < http://www.operatoday.com/content/2007/09/ariane_et_barbe_1.php >.Sutcliffe, Tom. Believing in Opera. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton UP, 1996.YouTube. “Manon Sex and the Opera.” 24 Apr. 2008 < http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiBQhr2Sy0k >.

In 1858 EBB declared her son Pen “shall be a ‘citizen of the world’ after my own heart & ready for the millennium.”[i] Living in Italy for most of the fifteen years of her married life and passionately supporting Italian unification and independence in her mature poetry, Elizabeth Barrett Browning proudly regarded herself as “a citizen of the world.” But world citizenship is a perspective toward which EBB[ii] strove in her juvenilia long before she employed the phrase. Much of her childhood writing expresses her compulsion to address social and political issues and to transcend national prejudices in doing so. Recent critics have illuminated EBB’s gender and political views in fascinating detail. Marjorie Stone, to cite one example, has ably traced EBB’s commitment to “a poetry of the present and ‘the Real’” and her “turn towards human and contemporary subjects, away from the self-confessedly mystical and abstract subject matter of her 1838 volume….”[iii] We should recognize, however, that a strong political impulse surfaces in even her earliest writings and in her recollections of childhood. Her letters from early childhood demonstrate her precocious interest in power negotiations between nations, and also between individual citizens and governments. At age six, for example, she informed her mother and father that “the Rusians has beat the french killd 18.000 men and taken 14000 prisners”--an account which, though mistakenly attributing victory to the wrong side, documents her early interest in the Napoleonic wars (31 August 1812, BC 1: 9). More telling for consideration of her aesthetic-political theory, her earliest known poem—composed in the month she turned six—in four lines critiques the British government’s policy of impressing civilians (even Americans) to serve in the British navy.[iv] Entitled “On the Cruelty of Forcement to Man: Alluding to the Press Gang” (1812), it suggests in its final two lines the viewer’s--specifically the extremely young female poet’s--responsibility to grapple with the moral and ethical implications of this military practice: Ah! the poor lad in yonder boat, Forced from his wife, his friends, his home, Now gentle Maiden how can you, Look at the misery of his doom![v] Her last two lines pose a question that will shape her poetic career: How can you represent disturbing issues that demand your attention? Although her brief first poem does not resolve this conundrum, by expressing her query as an exclamation, she leaves no uncertainty that she must do so. [i] The Brownings’ Correspondence, 26 vols. to date, ed. Philip Kelley, et al. (Winfield, KS, and Waco, TX: Wedgestone Press, 1984- ), vol. 25, p. 98; hereafter cited parenthetically as BC. For discussion of EBB’s views on the cosmopolitan education of her son and its relationship to her poetic practice, see Beverly Taylor, “Elizabeth Barrett Browning and the Politics of Childhood,” Victorian Poetry 46 (2008): 405-27; and Christopher M. Keirstead, “‘He Shall Be a “Citizen of the World”’: Cosmopolitanism and the Education of Pen Browning,” Browning Society Notes 32 (2007): 74-82. EBB associated the concept “citizen” or “citizeness of the world” with both personal experience and international political concerns. In 1852 she wrote to her beloved distant kinsman and friend John Kenyon about her bitter estrangement from England, on the personal level fostered particularly by her father’s obdurate refusal to reconcile following her marriage, and on the political level, by England’s failure to support Italy’s independence: “I’m a citizeness of the world now, you see, and float loose” (BC 17: 70). [ii] To avoid the confusion of using her maiden name (Elizabeth Barrett Barrett) and her married name, throughout the essay I refer to Elizabeth Barrett Browning by the initials she frequently used to sign her manuscripts and letters. Both she and Robert Browning expressed pleasure that her initials and characteristic signature would not change with their marriage (BC 11: 248-49). [iii] Marjorie Stone, Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1995), pp. 27, 24-25. Yet even so magisterial a study as Isobel Armstrong’s Victorian Poetry: Poetry, Poetics and Politics (London: Routledge, 1993), while it ranges beyond the traditional canon to include many women and working-class writers, scarcely mentions EBB. [iv] What were you thinking about at age six? Britain’s practice of seizing sailors from merchant ships and forcing them to serve in the Royal Navy (“forcement” or “impressment”) constituted one cause the United States declared war on England in 1812, while England was still at war with France. The London Times discussed the problem of impressment. See, e.g., “Parliamentary Proceedings,” 26 June 1812; “American Papers,” 10 March 1812; as well as editorial comment calling impressment “the disgrace of England and of a civilized age” (“Upon Hearing Cuxhaven,” 3 October 1811). On naval impressment see Nicholas Rogers, The Press Gang: Naval Impressment and Its Opponents in Georgian Britain (London: Continuum, 2007), esp. pp. 134-38. [v] First published in H. Buxton Forman’s edition of EBB’s Hitherto Unpublished Poems and Stories with an Inedited Autobiography, vol. 1 (Boston: Bibliophile Society, 1914), p. 31; subsequently cited as HUP. Punctuation follows that of the manuscript copied into a notebook by EBB’s mother, in the Berg collection of the New York Public Library; see The Browning Collections: A Reconstruction with Other Memorabilia, compiled by Philip Kelley & Betty A. Coley (Winfield, KS: Armstrong Browning Library of Baylor University, The Browning Institute, Mansel Publishing, Wedgestone Press, 1984), D666. All quotations from EBB’s works follow The Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 5 vols., vol. eds. Sandra Donaldson, Rita Patteson, Marjorie Stone, and Beverly Taylor (London: Pickering and Chatto, 2010); subsequently cited as WEBB. EBB’s juvenilia appear in vol. 5, this first poem on pp. 159-60. On this poem and other juvenilia, see Beverly Taylor, “Childhood Writings of Elizabeth Barrett Browning: ‘At four I first mounted Pegasus,’” The Child Writer from Austen to Woolf, ed. Christine Alexander and Juliet McMaster (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), pp. 138-53.

Historically, the Barbie doll has embodied all things stereotypically feminine, ranging from fashion trends to societal roles, and reflected the contemporary image of “the perfect woman”. However, beneath the surface of Barbie’s seemingly innocent portrayal of femininity lies a complex web of societal expectations and norms, and the toy’s potential for instilling such norms within young girls. This function of the doll ties into Judith Butler’s concept of gender performativity, in which gender is masked as a pre-existing condition while being a construct constantly produced and reproduced by society (“Performative Acts” 522). Moreover, the various caretaking-centred roles of Barbie dolls and their frequent portrayal alongside Ken dolls reinforce performativity with the use of heteronormativity, subtly implying that a woman’s fulfilment is connected to her ability to attract and maintain a heterosexual partnership, as well as her role within a heteronormative family structure, which reinforces the socially cultivated idea that femininity is inherently linked to heterosexual desire (Butler “Performative Acts” 524). Consequently, the Barbie doll serves as both a reflection and a reinforcement of societal expectations surrounding femininity, highlighting the intricacies of gender performance, compulsory heterosexuality, and the construction of identity within modern culture. Greta Gerwig’s Barbie (2023), however, tries to divorce the doll from the unachievable standard of a “perfect woman” and instead to use it as a tool for rethinking what constitutes femininity and what it means to be a woman in the contemporary world. The film offers a subversive take on Barbie’s cultural significance, portraying her as a symbol of empowerment and self-discovery rather than a narrow representation of the idealised idea of femininity. Through the narrative of the film, Greta Gerwig attempts to challenge traditional gender norms and explore the complexities of identity, inviting a rethinking of the societal status quo. This article aims to answer, through analysis of the film’s various themes connected to gender and feminism, whether Gerwig’s Barbie succeeds at redefining the doll and making it a feminist symbol of empowerment. The analysis consists of three main sections that examine the themes most crucial for answering this question. The first section, centred around gender performativity, will discuss the cultural symbolism and significance of the doll as well as analyse the portrayal of the Barbies in Barbieland. In the second section, the focus is on deconstructing the connection between femininity, performativity, and heteronormativity in the film, and link these concepts to the film’s take on choice feminism. The last section examines the storyline’s potential in depicting identity outside of performativity and compulsory heterosexuality and analyse the film’s take on empowerment through the resistance to the stereotypical construct of femininity. Building upon this analysis, it is suggested that while Barbie attempts to break down conventional gender norms, deconstruct the stereotypical perception of femininity, and transform the doll into a tool for women’s empowerment, its endeavour is, at times, superficial, and inadvertently perpetuates the very constructs it tries to undermine. To Be a Barbie Is to Perform To analyse the film’s take on the transformation of the role of Barbie, it is essential to establish the link between the doll and the concept of gender performativity. Throughout the toy’s history, Barbie dolls have embodied specific roles or professions, examples of which include President Barbie, Doctor Barbie, Journalist Barbie, and numerous others. These representations aim to show young girls the diverse societal roles available to them, serving as symbols of the empowering slogan used by Mattel for the promotion of the doll, “you can be anything”, a message also central to Gerwig’s Barbie. However, the dolls simultaneously carry a set of predetermined characteristics, mostly connected to their appearance, that include the clothes they wear, the accompanying accessories, the shape of their body, or the colour of their skin. Each one of these characteristics reflects the contemporary standard of what a woman in a particular position is imagined to look like, connecting to a phenomenon described by Glenda MacNaughton where toys such as Barbie are used as powerful tools to instil gender roles and sexism in girls during childhood (22). The 1993 Doctor Barbie is an example of a toy that aims to discreetly reinforce stereotypically feminine performance. While, at first glance, the doll conveys the message that a doctor’s career is within every girl’s reach, the accessories, which include a baby, baby bottle, and rattle, and the writing on the box, which says “everything you need for taking care of baby!”, clearly define what type of doctor the girl is supposed to become, and connect to the gender stereotypes that define the role of women as mothers and “natural” caretakers. Additionally, even though Barbie does not have a child of her own, nearly all Doctor Barbies, including those who are not meant to be paediatricians, such as the more recent 2015 Eye Doctor Barbie, are equipped with a child and a set of child-related accessories. With their childcare-centred purpose and their immaculate, conventionally attractive appearance, the Doctor Barbie dolls perpetuate what Stephanie Coontz, building on Betty Friedan’s concept of the feminine mystique, calls the “new feminine mystiques”. Particularly, they uphold the “supermom mystique”, in which women are not only reduced to their role as caretakers but are also expected to be perfect at it, while simultaneously remaining attractive and professionally active (170), creating unachievable standards of femininity. The example of the Doctor Barbies shows how the doll can convey the stereotypical, socially desired, and often unachievable image of womanhood hidden behind illusory female empowerment. As a result, by playing with the Barbie dolls, girls learn how to perform femininity through an object that is in itself an embodiment of the stereotypical, idealised performance of femininity, creating the circle that reinstates the societal status quo. Greta Gerwig’s film tries to, and at least partially does, undermine this notion. The Barbies in Barbieland can be considered to be very diverse, representing different races, ethnicities, and body types, as well as including transgender and disabled individuals. The dolls are also excellent at an extremely wide range of social roles and jobs and create an ideal society – a feminist utopia. While initially appearing as a progressive departure from stereotypical depictions of idealised femininity, this portrayal is not free from underlying issues. One significant concern is the less obvious, but still present, assumption that femininity is synonymous with a certain set of universal characteristics that all women possess. “This makes me emotional and I’m expressing it. I have no difficulty holding both logic and feeling at the same time”, says the lawyer Barbie in her speech, emphasising the socially accepted idea that women are naturally more capable of expressing their emotions and that such a quality is desirable for them (Kachel et al. 10). Some qualities that the movie intertwines with femininity are connected to the aforementioned “natural” caretaker characteristics that stereotypically make women less prone to conflict and more successful at building and protecting a united community, playing into the stereotype described by Prime, Carter, and Welbourne where women “take care” and perform emotional labour, and men “take charge” by acting individualistically and in a way that asserts their power over others (32), a notion especially visible in the final act of the film, when Barbies unite to end the rule of Kens. While the film’s portrayal of feminine qualities might appear to be positive, when engaging in feminist criticism through the lens of gender performativity theory, the very assumption that these characteristics are universal and innate to every woman can be considered incorrect and a product of the phenomenon of performativity, in which gender is neither an internal, pre-existing condition nor a reflection of an individual choice, but rather a set of “acts” required by society that fulfil various, constantly produced and reproduced social norms (Butler “Performative Acts” 526). Therefore, there are no universally feminine qualities because femininity as such is a social construct, a performance, not an innate condition. The seemingly positive qualities assigned to Barbies in the utopian Barbieland are a product of this very performance and perpetuate the view that certain elements of femininity are shared by all women because of their gender, undermining the film’s feminist message. The deconstruction of the mechanism of performativity is also crucial for answering the question of whether or not Barbie’s portrayal of a “feminist utopia” can be helpful for the feminist fight and has the power to challenge the societal status quo. According to Butler, to truly undermine patriarchal structures of oppression and constructs such as compulsory heterosexuality, performativity and the mechanisms sustaining it has to be fully unmasked (Gender Trouble 180). This can be achieved through the re-examination and questioning of the very core of each social performance of the so-called “true” femininity, even when the image of it and the characteristics connected to it are perceived as vastly positive, something at which Barbie fails when it comes to its portrayal of the different characters. The film, therefore, risks reproducing the phenomenon described by Veronica Hollinger, in which the critiques of gender norms and societal status quo inadvertently reinstate them (25). While discussing the characters of the utopian Barbieland and the film’s potential to challenge gender norms, it is also crucial to analyse the case of the Barbie who visibly does not conform to gender performativity – the Weird Barbie. Weird Barbie is unique in many ways, from her messy, short haircut through her unconventional clothing and makeup to her unusual behaviour. The way she looks and acts does not fit within the acceptable social norms of femininity, and consequently she is ostracised and removed from the community. Referring to her looks and place within Barbieland, Stereotypical Barbie comments: “either you’re brainwashed or you’re weird and ugly, there is no in-between”, highlighting the connection between societal indoctrination into widely embraced, often gender-related, norms of behaviour and appearance, and the perception and treatment of an individual as an “other” within society. The portrayal of how Weird Barbie is treated by other Barbies strongly connects to Butler’s idea of discrete genders, which are sets of often subconscious societal beliefs and expectations that allow for the categorisation of individuals into binary genders. While discrete genders enable survival in society and humanise its members, they simultaneously have punitive consequences for those who do not conform to the stereotypical ways of gender performance (Gender Trouble 178). Weird Barbie’s nonconformity, even though central to the story, is still punished. She is never considered a true part of society, is feared by others, and is treated as a freak. This highlights that in Barbieland, correct and incorrect ways to perform gender exist, undermining the image of a feminist utopia and revealing that despite the veneer of empowerment, gender performativity has a significant influence on the characters living in Barbieland. Choice Feminism and the Consequences of Gender Performativity When Stereotypical Barbie comes back to Barbieland, or rather, at that point in the story, Kendom, she realises all her fellow Barbies have seemingly lost their minds. They gave up all of their significant roles and decided to serve the Kens instead, embracing patriarchy. This storyline breaks up with the perfect image of the feminist utopia and allows the movie to become, to a certain extent, self-reflexive. The Barbies, who never had to fight for their rights and only knew how to perform their roles in a “vacuum” of a perfectly matriarchal society, have no defence against the destructive influence of patriarchy. Their identities are shown as deeply performative. Before Barbieland’s transformation into Kendom, they were too preoccupied with performing their assigned roles to ever question why they performed them or whether they wanted to perform them; as a result, when different roles are assigned to them based on the newly introduced patriarchal system, they accept them without any hesitation. This particular plot line can be interpreted as a criticism of choice feminism, the least political and most palatable form of feminism that only provides an illusion of empowerment through choice and exists as a response to common criticism of feminism as too radical (Ferguson 248). Despite having the freedom to resist the new order, the Barbies momentarily conform to a clearly oppressive set of social norms, seemingly out of their own free will. Such a portrayal satirises and exaggerates choice feminism to underline the complex issues connected to its philosophy. This storyline provides very relevant social commentary, especially in the current era of the rise of the so-called tradwife trend and glamorisation of the housewife lifestyle, and in addition to criticising the premise of choice feminism exposes the potential pitfalls of uncritical acceptance of traditional gender roles and the superficial empowerment that comes with them. As Stereotypical Barbie delves deeper into the new reality of Kendom, she confronts another pervasive force shaping the lives of the inhabitants – compulsory heterosexuality. In the new reality, heteronormativity reigns supreme, dictating not only romantic relationships but also societal norms and expectations. Stereotypical Barbie observes how her fellow Barbies, once successful and self-confident, give up their jobs and houses and willingly conform to the narrow confines of compulsory heterosexuality, prioritising relationships with Kens above all else and accepting them as patriarchal rulers whom they need to obey. This limiting, degrading power of compulsory heterosexuality is described by Adrienne Rich, who explains that societal pressure to conform to this concept pervades every aspect of life, from academic discourse to personal relationships, influences all interactions, and affects every label assigned within society, confining many women to a prescribed script and preventing them from exploring their true identities beyond societal norms (657). The film connects to this premise and satirises compulsory heterosexuality by portraying it as a “brainwashing” practice that makes Barbies forget everything about their true identities and purposes and deconstructs the intertwining of heterosexuality with femininity through the perspective of Stereotypical Barbie, who witnesses the disastrous effects of compulsory heterosexuality from an outside perspective. Consequently, the film succeeds at exposing the performative nature of heterosexuality and reveals how it can stifle authentic expression and impose rigid binaries on women’s identities and desires. Stereotypical Barbie and Feminist Empowerment Stereotypical Barbie’s journey to finding her identity and purpose is perhaps the most important theme of the movie, and one that offers the most direct commentary on performativity. Stereotypical Barbie does not have an assigned role; she is a blank slate, which is a double-edged sword. On one hand, she is free to decide who she wants to be; on the other hand, she has no sense of purpose and struggles to find her place in the world. Throughout the film, Stereotypical Barbie learns that the real experience of girlhood and womanhood and her perception of femininity are vastly different. She sees the self-contradictory notion of women “always doing it wrong”, and the issue of never being able to fit within the unachievable standards. This observation deeply resonates with the aforementioned concept of “the new feminine mystiques” in which the societal expectations imposed on women require them, for example, to be sexy, yet not “too sexy”, to avoid being labelled as promiscuous, or to focus on their families and be fully committed to their role as mothers, but still have successful careers (Coontz 170), shedding light on the pressures women face. Additionally, Barbie’s experience with the unattainable, idealised image of womanhood and the internal conflict she goes through, realising she does not want to perform Barbieland’s “perfect” version of femininity, also connect to the concept of liveable life described by Wendy Gay Pearson. Pearson juxtaposes the societal pressure to conform to the accepted norms of gender performance, and the equating of such conformism with survival, with a sense of identity and personhood, claiming that “a normative conception of gender can undo one’s personhood, undermining the capacity to persevere in a liveable life” (76). For the main character, engaging in the same activities as other Barbies and adhering to performativity caused depression and a lack of a sense of self, making her life unliveable. “Do you guys ever think about dying?”, she asks, interrupting a joyful party, visibly shocking other Barbies, and giving voice to the “irrepressible thoughts of death” she has been experiencing as a result of the dissonance between how she is supposed to act and feel and how she truly does. Stereotypical Barbie’s life, however, becomes liveable and her personhood is fully affirmed when at the end of the film, she decides to give up her role and place in Barbieland and becomes a “real person”, equating the rejection of performativity with agency and empowerment, and underlining that there is no one universal experience of womanhood. The answer to the question of whether Stereotypical Barbie resists compulsory heterosexuality along with performativity, however, remains unclear. The character initially strongly rejects conforming to compulsory heterosexuality by rejecting Ken; therefore, at first glance, a normative, heterosexual romantic relationship does not define her. However, simultaneously, heterosexuality plays a discreet yet crucial role in the film. It is because of Ken’s actions that Barbie manages to discover her identity and go through the journey of finding her purpose. Ken is the driving force of the plot; if it were not for him, Barbie would not have many of her moments of reflection on femininity and womanhood. Finally, Barbieland is saved because the Barbies, led by Stereotypical Barbie, decide to perform heterosexuality in a weaponised way and use it as a tool of power over Kens. The film’s ending and Barbie’s apology for not appreciating Ken enough even further complicate the commentary on compulsory heterosexuality. While she rejects Ken romantically, she admits that Kens are crucial to society and that Barbies could not live happily without them. The struggle of the film to take a clear, more radical stance against compulsory heterosexuality again connects to the idea of Hollinger that the critiques of the societal status quo are often tainted by compulsory heterosexuality and reinstate the very social norms they try to challenge (25). By its avoidance of adopting a more radical position, the film inadvertently conforms to aspects of compulsory heterosexuality and reproduces the heteronormative, patriarchal norms that it simultaneously tries to criticise. Conclusions While Greta Gerwig’s Barbie attempts to deconstruct patriarchy and undermine the constructs that sustain it, such as gender performativity and compulsory heterosexuality, its efforts often remain superficial. The film’s portrayal of Barbies in Barbieland partially succeeds at transforming the symbolism of the doll and detaching it from the most stereotypical image of femininity, but does not fully free the doll from preconceived notions surrounding gender. Similarly, the main character’s journey, although a transformative exploration of womanhood that leads her to the discovery of feminism as a tool of both personal and common empowerment, is still limited and tainted by the stereotypical, normative conception of gender. Consequently, some of the constructs and polarities that the movie tries to undermine are instead reinforced by it. Despite its shortcomings, however, the film succeeds at providing a satirical lens for re-examining some of the deeply ingrained elements of the societal status quo and is not completely unsuccessful at redefining the doll as a feminist symbol. References Butler, Judith. “Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and Feminist Theory.” Theatre Journal 40.4 (1988): 519. ———. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York: Routledge, 1989. Coontz, Stephanie. A Strange Stirring: The Feminine Mystique and American Women at the Dawn of the 1960s. Basic Books, 2012. Ferguson, Michaele L. “Choice Feminism and the Fear of Politics.” Perspectives on Politics 8.1 (2010): 247–253. Gerwig, Greta. Barbie. Warner Bros, 2023. Hollinger, Veronica. “(Re)reading Queerly: Science Fiction, Feminism, and the Defamiliarization of Gender.” Science Fiction Studies 26.1 (1999): 23–40. Kachel, Sven, Melanie C. Steffens, and Claudia Niedlich. “Traditional Masculinity and Femininity: Validation of a New Scale Assessing Gender Roles.” Frontiers in Psychology 7 (2016). MacNaughton, Glenda. “Is Barbie to Blame? Reconsidering How Children Learn Gender.” Australasian Journal of Early Childhood 21.4 (1996): 18–24. Pearson, Wendy Gay. “Towards a Queer Genealogy of SF.” Queer Universes (2010): 72–100. Prime, Jeanine L., Nancy M. Carter, and Theresa M. Welbourne. “Women ‘Take Care,’ Men ‘Take Charge’: Managers’ Stereotypic Perceptions of Women and Men Leaders.” The Psychologist-Manager Journal 12.1 (2009): 25–49. Rich, Adrienne. “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence.” Signs 5.4 (1980): 631–660.

“Garihmato—Look after, to Care for” Melaleuca Alternifolia, commonly called Tea Tree, only grows naturally in the lands of the Bundjalung people from north coast New South Wales. The particular medicinal properties of the Tea Tree have been used for thousands of years, and the Tree and its effects on land, water, and people form part of Bundjalung oral histories and spiritual governance. This article explores media about Tea Tree from the 1990s to 2020s in print media through agricultural media and magazines, as well as online media through TikTok. This combination highlights the generational positionality between the authors as Mother/Daughter and as different consumers of media, with Kath mainly consuming print and Phoebe consuming online. It also utilises a synergy through timing, with the 1990s being when Kath was in her 20s and the 2020s being Phoebe’s time in her 20s. Through analysing the tropes and messaging surrounding Tea Tree, we as Bundjalung women unearth the continued colonisation and exploitation of First Nations knowledges by the health and wellbeing sector – from the mainstream pharmaceutical industry to alternative wellbeing to user-generated travel content. This article considers these areas. Ultimately, acknowledgements of Indigenous land or origins of knowledge are not enough. We call for a structural reaffirmation and recontextualisation of First Nations’ ancestral medicines. Cultural Positioning Our family has an audio recording of our Githabal ancestor Granny Dorothy (Williams) Webb being interviewed by Terry Crowley, a linguist who was recording the Bundjalung language in the 1970s. This recording of Granny forms part of the body of language resources published in the Crowley’s The Middle Clarence Dialects of Bandjalang. In one section of the recording, Crowley quizzes Granny on the names for different trees. When he asks about Tea Tree, Granny quickly responds “bulam” (also sometimes spelt “bulihm”) and then attempts to begin a story on how the bark “bulam-ga” was used for shelters. Crowley abruptly stops her reminiscence as he has no interest in the ethnographic detail, just the linguistic material. Had he allowed her to speak further, he would have known that Granny had much more to say on Tea Tree. Some parts of her knowledge would have not been spoken to him, however, as Tea Tree, in particular Ti Tree Lake, formed a part of her women’s knowledge. As Granny’s female descendants, we operationalise our cultural connection to Bulam/Tea Tree in this article while being mindful and respectful of the importance of keeping certain knowledge within our female genealogy. We remain faithful to Granny’s language and to her teachings which we are privileged to know through oral history from her daughters Gertie and Esther Webb and her granddaughter Julianne Butler. The Context of ‘Wellbeing’ The World Health Organisation states in its Constitution that “health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity” (WHO). While noting that this definition is a significant improvement on exclusively bio-medical definitions, we argue that there is still room for a further expansion. In critiquing the WHO definition, Sartorius (662) notes a third dimension of health, which is “a state of balance, an equilibrium that an individual has established within himself and between himself and his social and physical environment”. The inclusion of the environment resonates more deeply with many Aboriginal philosophies but remains problematic due to its individualistic nature, removed from culture, community, and Connection to Country. Through industry research, understandings of ‘wellness’ from the ‘health and wellbeing’ sector at large appear to remain fluid to consumer demands. In a 2021 report, “Wellness in 2030”, research shows that “consumers are spending more on wellness than they ever have before. Wellness is now a $1.5 trillion market globally” (Chopra et al.). Rather than provide a definition of what ‘wellness’ means, the report focusses on six ‘wellness categories’ as identified by consumers: health, fitness, nutrition, appearance, sleep, and mindfulness. From this we can understand that the ‘health and wellness’ industry might not promote a secure philosophy of wellness because, as inherently capitalist enterprises, they want to be responsive to social trends in order to secure profit. For Aboriginal peoples, our understanding of wellbeing is much more concrete. Culture is inextricably connected to Country, and the guardianship of that relationship is a foundation for life and a key indicator of wellbeing (Grieves 2; Oliver 1). Put simply, “if the land is sick, you are sick” (Kenyon). Conversely, the belief that “if you look after the country, the country will look after you” (Weir et al.) has framed a multi-generational cultural governance grounded in The Dreaming. Therefore, this article proceeds on an understanding of wellbeing beyond the limitation of mainstream definitions – we understand wellbeing as being place-based, enculturated, and grounded in action not aspiration. Our case study on the wellbeing representations in media promoting Tea Tree in various forms such as oils and immersive experience speak to this framing. Bulam (Melaleuca Alternifolia) Many Australians are familiar with Tea Tree but are unaware that one particular variant, Melaleuca Alternifolia, only grows naturally within the lands of the Bundjalung people. In addition to continuing oral histories, it was noted in various journals in the early colonial period that Bundjalung people used Bulam (Tea Tree) for a range of uses – to cover shelter, to line the coolamons which held jarjum (children), and for a range of medicinal purposes for its antiseptic, antibacterial, and antifungal properties. Bulam could also be used as a diluted drink, or as a crushed oil rubbed on wounds, with the added advantage of also repelling insects (Murray 693). Additionally, Tea Tree occupies a revered place in Bundjalung beliefs and practices through its transformation of Country. We contend that the phrase “Country makes us healthy” is not a metaphor but a deeply held cultural norm with spiritual and physical attributes. In regard to Bulam/Tea Tree, it is important to acknowledge that there are bodies of water in Bundjalung Country which are ringed by Tea Tree, in particular Ti Tree Lake. The healing properties of the water are enhanced by the infusion from leaves into the water, giving it antibacterial properties; these waters are seen as Women’s sites and are particularly important as birthing places. It is contended that the name Tea Tree comes from the recording of Captain James Cook’s 1770 mapping of the Australian eastern coastline. Coming ashore, Cook and his party witnessed Bundjalung people making a ‘tea coloured’ drink from the leaves of the tree. A number of sailors also used the leaves for tea (Drury 11). Neither the sailors, nor Joseph Banks who collected samples, were aware of the potential health benefits of the Tea Tree. Some early colonists in the north coast region did use the leaves medicinally but it was widely unknown amongst non-Indigenous people until the twentieth century (Drury 19). It was not until the 1920s that Tea Tree was produced and marketed by Arthur Penfold, an Australian chemist. Marketed as an oil, it is claimed that soldiers during World War II were given Tea Tree oil for use in the trenches (Australian Tea Tree Industry Association). However, with the advent of antibiotics, Tea Tree fell out of favour as a remedy, but recent interest, from both pharmaceutical and alternative medicine sectors, has seen a steady growth in production and promotion of Tea Tree for viable wound care globally (Jones). Unpacking Ethnocentrism, ‘Common Sense’, and Settler-Colonial Extractivism Australia has since developed a flourishing market for ‘herbal remedies’ which is dominated by Western and Chinese medicinal products. While Indigenous Medicines are experiencing growing popularity, they have traditionally held a very small market share (Wohlmuth et al.). Interestingly, while some Indigenous medicines have been used to develop Indigenous-owned micro-economies (Oliver), Tea Tree products have predominantly been distributed by non-Indigenous people. This is problematic because it removes the product from its broader cultural context and does not recognise Indigenous Intellectual and Cultural Property Rights. In fact, the marketing of Tea Tree oil in some contexts displays a distinct ethnocentrism. We understand ‘ethnocentrism’ to refer to individual and systemically entrenched beliefs in the perceived ‘rightness’ of the perspectives and processes of a person’s own group. Ethnocentrism also identifies that this belief in the ‘rightness’ of their own community acts alongside an aversion and disdain for ‘outsiders’ and their ways. This belief often enforces loyalty along ethnic lines in order to consolidate power, wealth, and resources in order to deprive the ‘outsider’. Notions of ethnocentrism have been present in the Australian social, cultural, and political consciousness for centuries (Cole) Another idea to consider with Australian ethnocentrism is theorist Antonio Gramsci’s concept of ‘common sense’. He argues that, while individuals of a social group may hold its conception of the world, the same group may repeat rhetoric that is not their own due to the ideas' prevalence in ‘normal times’. This is when the repetition of ‘common sense’ understandings becomes “not independent and autonomous, but submissive and subordinate” (Gramsci). Many of the media representations we unpack later in this article can be understood as repetitions of settler-colonial ‘common sense’ which reinforce and value the supposed ‘supremacy’ of white non-Indigenous understandings while trivialising or disregarding First Nations ways. Consequently, this brings the issue of ethnocentrism beyond individual acts to highlight the extractive nature of settler-colonial nations, which premise themselves on the ‘elimination of the native’ and our ways of being, knowing, and doing (Kauanui). This elimination does not have to be purely genocidal but also includes the appropriation and assimilation of First Nations people, resources, and knowledge. Mississauga Nishnaabeg writer Leanne Simpson from northern Turtle Island (Canada) argues that extraction and assimilation go together. Colonialism has always extracted the indigenous … every part of our culture that is seemingly useful to the extractivist mindset gets extracted … and assimilated into the culture of the settlers without regard for the people and the knowledge that created it. (Klein) In our analysis of media representations below, we will see many examples of what this section seeks to explain. Media will trivialise or dismiss First Nations people and knowledge through extraction, appropriation, and assimilation of our resources into their own ethnocentric understandings. Tea Tree Oil Use in ‘Australia’, 1990s-2020s In the 1990s, as Tea Tree oil began to expand in the market, the Australian Financial Review published an article entitled “Bringing Tea-Tree Oil Out of the Swamp” (Brown). The article’s provocative introduction asserted: the world's first big plantation producer of tea-tree oil discovered early that its product's folksy image was not easy to shed. Decades of labelling as a bush remedy was a disadvantage when the product was eventually promoted as scientifically proven medicine. However, the company has succeeded in convincing consumers that the native product is a quality one, and the result has been the birth of a new industry. In deconstructing these assertions through a Bundjalung lens we have much to say! Firstly, it is a peculiarly Western lens which denigrates swampland. The late anthropologist Deborah Bird Rose (1996) gave voice to many of the Aboriginal perspectives which she had heard, contending that ‘wilderness’ is a construction of the West. For Aboriginal people, swamp is still sacred: it is the home of the Tea Tree and is not perceived as lesser, but rather as an interdependent element of the broader landscape, of the health of waterways, teeming with food and medicines. Secondly, we note the usage of “folksy image” and “bush remedy” as hurdles to be overcome. Given that both of these, particularly ‘bush medicines’, are coded to Aboriginality, this presents another layer of disconnection of the emplaced and enculturated nature of Tea Tree. In fact, later studies have shown that there is strong uptake and identification with traditional medicines exactly from that basis. For instance, interviewees from clinics distributing traditional remedies recall, “blackfellas and whitefellas come and tell us, ‘I’m feeling better from your bush medicine, can I get some more?’” (Oliver). Additionally, if we consider the global market, the WHO estimates that “60% of the world’s population relies on herbal medicine and about 80% of the population in developing countries depends almost totally on it for their primary health care needs” (Khan). Therefore, we contend that the ‘disadvantage’ is in targeting the ethnocentric Western market, which is masked by an apparent global outlook. This year, in “Three Tales from Tea Tree Farmers”, an article published in The Farmer Magazine, the developing ‘Australian’ Tea Tree industry is foregrounded in the by-line with “First Nations people have understood the value of Australian tea tree oil for thousands of years” (Hadgraft). This is particularly ironic given the content of the article itself: white face after white face come through the editorial shots of farmers with their crop, and not another whisper of the Aboriginal people and knowledges the article leads with. In this and other business-focussed articles, the Tea Tree narrative transcends its literal grounding. In contrast, a range of alternative medicine commentators do acknowledge the centrality of Bundjalung culture to Tea Tree’s curative potential, but place Aboriginal knowledges in a liminal space – a kind of choose-your-own-adventure – which samples across belief systems and practices to create a hybrid model which weakens Aboriginal cultural authority. We note that these erasures and slippages are not necessarily made from malice, but nevertheless constitute a problematic narrative through an Aboriginal lens. For example, Madelaine West, in “The Only Way to Create a Kinder World Together”, lauds the Tea Tree-infused lake waters in the Bundjalung nation as a kind of New Age transformative landscape. She comments: since time immemorial, these lakes have been a sacred Indigenous birthing place and meeting ground of the First Nation tribes of the Arakwal-Bundjalung people. Historically a ‘girls only’-type affair, many Indigenous men still observe this practice. It should be noted here that ‘girls only’ seems to hearken to the literary tradition of girls' adventure fiction – the self-sufficient tomboy who challenges gender norms. While this trope has, and can, continue to serve to empower young women, there has often been a racialised element to this narrative (McRobbie and McCabe 1981). In the context of Tea Tree, it is salient to note that Women’s Business transcends the girls-only trope as the framing of spiritual authority with severe consequences for those men who transgress this element of lore (Bird-Rose 36-8). Thus West’s contention of the personified Lake sits in direct contravention to her stated position that “it is not for me to interpret nor appropriate the culture of the traditional custodians of this region”. The warm, soothing waters of these lakes offer up their healing properties to one and all ... they don't discriminate along lines of colour, creed, residence or orientation. They just hold you in their fluid, forgiving embrace, wash you clean, heal your hurts and soothe your soul. (West) We note that there is no problem in personifying the body of water as this directly correlates to international movements to the legal personhood of waterways, such as the Whanganui River in Aotearoa (New Zealand), or recognition as a living entity such as the Yarra River in Victoria. What should be noted, however, is that within the context of international instruments like the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and various national and state policies, First Nations people (in particular Traditional Owners) are central to the representation of engagement with water (Pelizzon et al.). In this context it would include a culturally mediated guardianship on who may bathe in the waters, which speaks to a respect for cultural traditions and consultation for permission to use the waters. There is an ongoing tension for First Nations people attempting to negotiate this preferred power-sharing with local, state, and national governments while their Country continues to be desecrated by ignorant and selfish visitors. Despite lack of support from the state, First Nations peoples regularly attempt to exert their own environmental governance and authority over sacred sites on their Country, with one way being through the use of signs informing guests of the nature of the area. Similar to our special lakes in Bundjalung Country, Kuku Yalanji people from the Daintree have the Blue Hole Pool, which is a healing and birthing place reserved for women’s business. Kuku Yalanji Traditional Owners have struggled for years to protect this site, as non-Indigenous people have decided to make the pool a regular swimming spot. Multiple erected signs are constantly dismissed and a boom gate installed to stop vehicles has been broken multiple times by disgruntled visitors. (Hollis) Protecting these lakes has hit another obstacle with the rise of #traveltok in the 2020s, a subsection of media on the user-generated short form video-sharing app TikTok dedicated to sharing the best spots to travel. All someone has to search for is ‘swimming hole daintree’, and videos show overwhelmingly non-Indigenous tourists (of all genders) sharing their travels to the Blue Hole Pool. One video shows a girl with her friends trespassing past the aforementioned boom gate (TikTok a), and another video shows a young man filming himself in the sacred women’s pool with the caption “Add this to your bucket list in Queensland!” (TikTok b). Ironically, a number of commenters note that he would have had to ignore numerous signs warning him to not swim. However, the video still garnered 2,200 likes, and over 700 people have saved the video. A similar search for ‘Ti Tree Lake’ reveals comparable content. The first video belongs to a young woman, Rhiannon, presumably in her early 20s, who declares in a voiceover that “this is one of the best places to swim in Australia”, before listing off the health and wellbeing benefits of the Tea Tree-infused lake (TikTok c). While she acknowledges in the second half of the video that the lake is “valued” by Indigenous women after birth, she fails to name Bundjalung people for her audience of 508,000 views, and instead closes her content on how nice her hair felt afterwards. Through this type of media content creation, a young white woman has assumed the right to promote one of Bundjalung Nation’s most significant sites. Another video nearby in the search list shows a young man bathing in our women’s lake (TikTok d). West and Rhiannon are certainly not alone in their shaping of the lake as a natural healing place through a lens of wellbeing language. A letter to the editor complaining of men using the lake took a far different approach to a gender prohibition, adding dismay that the lake was being used by men seeking random sexual hook-ups. In speaking of the significance of the Country, the author writes, “once upon a time it was an Aboriginal birthing ground. Yeah fellas, a sacred women’s area”. Ironically the concern of what had been ‘lost’ was also framed through a nostalgic appreciation where 20 years ago I used to come here with my girlfriends and we would swim in the tea-tree lake, dive deep to retrieve the mineral rich mud from the bottom and lie in the sun until it had dried. It was the ultimate day spa. (Leonard) While noting this conversational tone, there is nevertheless a deep disjuncture between a sacred women's area and a day spa. We argue that the significance of Tea Tree lakes is not open to appropriation through reinterpretation, not through a female empowerment and revitalisation agenda nor a neo-spiritual agenda which arose in the 2015 media discussion on a non-Aboriginal Victorian couple’s decision to give birth in Taylors Lake, reported by the Byron Shire News. In the paper’s next weekly edition, they gave voice to Arakwal custodians who commented: Taylors Lake or Ti Tree Lake is the most significant Aboriginal women's site in the Byron Shire … . The lake belongs to all Bundjalung women and holds deep spiritual significance to us, and our men never go there out of respect … . This woman speaks about her respect for Aboriginal culture but did not ask our permission. We were horrified when we saw the picture in the paper of this man in the sacred women's lake. (Kay cited in C222morrow) This last example particularly exemplifies the attempted ‘elimination’ of First Peoples through the attempted appropriation and assimilation of Indigenous practice. This absorption of the practice of bathing in these lakes into non-Indigenous practices attempts to displace Indigenous peoples from our Country, our sacred sites, and our knowledge. Through the re-framing of these places as ‘wellness’ tools or feminist liberation, we are experiencing the continued colonisation of our special places, which are our birthright as encultured female members of First Nations groups. Calls to Action There is a trend in academic literature which provides the scope of problems which plague Indigenous peoples. Our article concludes not with a restatement of the issues, but with a series of Calls to Action. Every day that we do not empower Traditional Owners in the management of their own Country is another day that sites such as Ti Tree Lake are desecrated and culturally significant plants like bulam are exploited. This requires individual and broader systemic change: Non-Indigenous peoples seeking healing and enlightenment from Country must be mindful that they are guests in those spaces. Wilfully ignoring Indigenous protocols or seeing protocols as a “pick and mix” option devalues Country. Social media guidelines for platforms such as TikTok must include avenues to flag or remove or add warnings for culturally insensitive content. This requires ongoing collaboration with First Nations people to further refine what content breaches these guidelines. Content creators must also adapt to community feedback. There must be legal recognition of Indigenous Cultural and Intellectual Property (ICIP) regarding First Nations’ knowledge of Country. First Nations people must be empowered to economically benefit from their knowledge as business owners and entrepreneurs utilising their individual, familial, and communal knowledge. Local, state, and national governments must empower Traditional Ecological Governance systems. Acknowledgement is not enough, sovereignty and land back. #notyourdamndayspa. References Australian Tea Tree Oil Industry Association. “About Australian Tea Tree Oil.” 10 June 2023 <https://teatree.org.au/teatree_about.php>. Bird-Rose, Deborah. Nourishing Terrains: Australian Aboriginal Views of Landscape and Wilderness. Australian Heritage Commission, 1996. Brown, Jamie. “Bringing Tea-Tree Oil Out of the Swamp.” Financial Review 17 Apr. 1994. <https://www.afr.com/companies/bringing-tea-tree-oil-out-of-the-swamp-19940117-kate3>. 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While Young Adult dystopian texts commonly manipulate expectations of time and space, it is largely in a linear sense—projecting futuristic scenarios, shifting the contemporary reader into a speculative space sometimes only slightly removed from contemporary social, political, or environmental concerns (Booker 3; McDonough and Wagner 157). These concerns are projected into the future, having followed their natural trajectory and come to a dystopian present. Authors write words and worlds of warning in a postapocalyptic landscape, drawing from and confirming established dystopian tropes, and affirming the activist power of teenage protagonists in cultivating change. This article examines the intersections between dystopian Young Adult literature and Indigenous Futurisms, and the possibilities for sharing or encoding Indigenous Knowledge through the disruption or revision of genre, where the act itself become a movement of activism and survival echoed in text. Lynette James acknowledges the “ruptures” (157) Indigenous authors have made in the genre through incorporating Indigenous Knowledge into story as an embedded element – not only of narrative, but of structure. Ambelin Kwaymullina, of the Palyku people of the Pilbara region of Western Australia, exemplifies this approach in her disruption or rupture of the dystopian genre in her embodiment of Indigenous Knowledge in the Young Adult (YA) text The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf. Kwaymullina centres Indigenous Knowledge throughout the trilogy, offering a powerful revision of key tropes of the dystopian YA genre, creating a perspective that privileges Indigenous Knowledge. This is most significantly identified through her depiction of time as a non-linear concept, at once realised narratively, conceptually, and structurally in the text. The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf, the first of a trilogy of novels in “The Tribe” series, presents a futuristic post-apocalyptic world, set 300 years after the Reckoning, a cataclysmic environmental disaster. The protagonist, Ashala Wolf, is one of a number of people with supernatural abilities that are outlawed by their government and labelled Illegals. As the novel begins, Ashala is being interrogated by the villainous Neville Rose, held in a detention centre as she plots to escape, free her fellow detainees, and return to the Tribe in the Firstwood. The plot draws from historical and contemporary parallels in Australia, yet part of the text’s subversive power is that these parallels and connections are never made explicit on the page. The reader is invited to become an active participant in coding meaning by applying their own understandings of the context and connections, creating an inter-subjective dialogue between reader and text, and Indigenous and non-Indigenous knowing. This article looks to the first novel in the trilogy as the key exemplifier of the disruption of genre and knowledge through the representation of time. It is in this novel that these concepts are established and realised most clearly, being predominantly from Ashala’s perspective as a direct descendant of Indigenous Australians, with the following two novels divided between Ashala, Georgie, and Ember as polyphonic narrative focalisers. Acting as an introduction to the series, The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf presents a foundation for readers to challenge their perceptions on both genre and knowledge. Kwaymullina entangles the two, imbuing knowledge throughout narrative and structure which in turn disrupts genre. In her revisioning of narrative through genre and structural focus of time as a non-linear concept, Kwaymullina puts into practice Conrad Scott’s argument that “the potential healing of moments or processes of crisis in Indigenous dystopias is never possible without a strategic engagement with narrative itself, and even the formal aspects of the text” (73).While the series fits the conventions of the dystopian genre, it has been more commonly identified as speculative fiction, or Indigenous futurism, as Kwaymullina herself defines her work. James notes the significance of acknowledging a text as Indigenous futurism, writing, “identifying a work as Indigenous futurism rather than simply as YA dystopia asks readers, critics, and scholars to adjust their orientation in ways that may radically alter both their perception and reception of it” (153). For the purposes of this article, I acknowledge the clear value and importance of identifying the text as Indigenous futurism, but also find value in the movements that define the shift from dystopian literature to Indigenous futurism, in its engagement with and recasting of dystopian conventions in the text. In embedding Indigenous Knowledge in her worldbuilding and narrative, Kwaymullina actively rewrites dystopian expectations and tropes. These notions would be expected or normalised when grounded in Indigenous futurism, but are regarded as a subversion and revision when read in dystopian fiction. The text engages directly with the specific tropes and expectations of dystopian genre—its significance in rewriting the spaces, narratives, and structures of the genre cannot be overstated. The employment of the dystopian genre as both framework and space of revision speaks to larger debates of the value of dystopian fiction in examining socio-cultural issues over other genres such as realism. Critics argue the speculative nature of dystopian fiction that remains linked to concerns of the present and past allows audiences to envision and experience their own transformative experience, effecting political change (Kennon; Mallan; Basu, Broad, and Hintz; Sypnowich). Balaka Basu, Katherine Broad, and Carrie Hintz argue that serious issues presented in fantastic futuristic scenarios “may provide young people with an entry point into real-world problems, encouraging them to think about social and political issues in new ways, or even for the first time” (4-5). Kerry Mallan notes the “ability of dystopian fiction to open up to readers a dystopian social elsewhere serves a double function: On the one hand, it offers readers an opportunity to reflect on their current existence to compare the similarities and differences between the real and the fictional; on the other, these stories implicitly exhort young people to take responsibility for their own lives and the future of society” (16). Drawing on these metanarrative structures with the interweaving of Indigenous knowledge increases the active responsibility for the reader. It invokes Nnedi Okorafor’s labelling of Indigenous Futurisms as “the most truthful way of telling the truth” (279), creating opportunities for the Indigenous and non-Indigenous reader to engage with narratives of a real apocalypse on invaded land. The dystopian setting and expectations form a buffer between reader and text (Basu, Broad, and Hintz 4), making the narrative more accessible to the reader without shying away from the embedded trauma, while drawing on dystopian fiction’s balance of despair and optimism (Basu, Broad, and Hintz 2).The stakes and value of dystopian fiction are heightened when engaging with Indigenous narratives and knowledge; as Claire Coleman (a Noongar woman from the south coast of Western Australia) notes, Indigenous Australians live in a post-apocalyptic state as “all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people alive today are the descendants of people who survived an apocalypse” (n.p.). James, quoting Uppinder Mehan, concurs, writing “these narrators are ‘survivors—or the descendants of survivors’ [162], not just of broken dystopian worlds or post-cataclysmic events but of the real historical legacies of slavery, conquest, and oppression” (157). Writing on Indigenous futurisms in dystopian and utopian fiction, Mary Morrison argues “people outside Western hegemonic power structures would likely be well-placed to transform the utopian imagination, to decolonize it” (11), acknowledging the significance in the intersection of genre and lived experience by author and character.Kwaymullina expands on this, noting that for Indigenous authors the tropes of speculative fiction are familiar lived experiences. She writes thatmany of the ideas that populate speculative-fiction books – notions of time travel, astral projection, speaking the languages of animals or trees – are part of Indigenous cultures. One of the aspects of my own novels that is regularly interpreted as being pure fantasy, that of an ancient creation spirit who sung the world into being, is for me simply part of my reality. (“Edges” 27)Kwaymullina affirms Coleman and James in her approach, writing “Indigenous people lived through the end of the world, but we did not end. We survived by holding on to our cultures, our kin, and our sense of what was right in a world gone terribly wrong” (“Edges” 29). The Tribe series demonstrates survivance, with Kwaymullina’s approach forming possibilities for intersubjective dialogues across genre. The concept is reinforced through Ashala’s repeated, joyful cries of hope throughout the text: “I live! We live! We survive!” (197, 200, 279, 391).Sara K. Day, Miranda A. Green-Barteet, and Amy L. Montz note dystopian literature considers possible futures from the outlook and failures of the present (8), arguing “the label ‘dystopia’ typically applies to works that simultaneously imagine futures and consider the present, essentially occupying a liminal space between these times” (Day, Green-Barteet, and Montz 9). This sense of liminality is heightened with the engagement of time from an Indigenous perspective; as Scott writes, “Indigenous dystopian fiction presents not only the crisis of the future but the ongoing crisis of the present time, and that which is still resonant from the past” (73). In “Respect, Relationships, Renewal: Aboriginal Perspectives on the Worlds of Tomorrow”, Kwaymullina notes that linear time can “become a tool of ideology, with colonial characterisations of Indigenous peoples as being of an earlier (less ‘advanced’) time through the use of terms such as ‘primitive’, ‘prehistoric’ and ‘prehistory’” (“Respect” 126).In shifting to a dystopian world where Australia as a colonised or invaded country is no longer recognised, but Country is still alive and read by those who live on it, Kwaymullina recasts the use of linear time as a tool of ideology to reaffirm Coleman’s argument that Indigenous Australians already exist in a post-apocalyptic state. She draws from the past and present and casts it into the future, while simultaneously recognising that all three are linked and circular—events are repeating and being relived. Kwaymullina depicts numerous parallels between the dystopian world and a post-invasion Australia, populating her world with references to detention centres; othering and distinct labelling of a vilified minority deemed a threat or aberrant to the majority colonising community; the name and title of the series’ central villain Chief Administrator Neville Rose in a clear reference to A.O. Neville, WA Chief Protector of Aborigines.At the outset, the government uses labels to separate and denigrate the Other—individuals with Abilities are called Illegals, distinct from Citizens, although they can apply for Exemptions if their Ability is deemed useful and passive. The terminology of Exemption draws deliberate connections to the Exemption Certificate Indigenous Australians could apply for from the Aborigines Protection (Amendment) Act 1943. The text consistently operates in modes of survivance, as Ashala and the Tribe redefine their world through a distinctly Indigenous perspective (Murphy 179). Ashala gains power through the tool used to suppress her by claiming and embracing this status, identifying her friends and herself as the Tribe and choosing a forest name emblematic of the totems that each Tribe member has a particular connection to (e.g. Georgie Spider, Ember Crow, Ashala Wolf). Continual parallels are drawn to Indigenous Knowledge: Ashala’s Ability is Sleepwalking, where she enters a state in dreaming where she can alter reality, a liminal space that suggests connections to the Dreamtime. While the land is no longer called or recognised as Australia, and the tectonic plates have shifted land mass, it remains Country, as recognised in Ashala’s relationship with the Firstwood. The Balance, the inherent harmony between all life, animate and inanimate, is a clear reflection of an Indigenous understanding, positioning it as the mainstream ideology.Kwaymullina weaves Indigenous knowledge through the text as demonstrated through narrative, key thematic concepts, and structure, disrupting the tropes of dystopian fiction in a manner that subverts genre and presents new possibilities for both reader and writer while presenting a shift to Indigenous Futurisms. As an organic by-product of this ideological framework, regressive or gendered tropes are re-envisioned as feminist and ecologically centred, ultimately conveying a sense of hope and survivance. Key tropes of YA dystopian fiction include a female teenager protagonist oppressed by her government, often initially unknowingly so embedded is she in the system, potentially profiting from it in some way. She is often introduced to the reader in a setting that the character initially reads as utopian, but is revealed to be dystopian and authoritarian in its construction. As identified by Ann M.M. Childs, a common dynamic in the genre that reinforces gender roles in heterosexual relationships see the protagonist introduced to the concept of rebellion or dissent through a male love interest already embedded in a resistance movement, at the cost of losing or betraying a female friend (188). Childs notes the protagonist may be resistant to the idea of rebellion, but after falling for the love interest, grows to genuinely care for the cause. Technology is depicted as advanced, alien or dehumanising, and both belongs to and represents the repressive society the protagonist seeks to escape and change. The natural environment is depicted in binary opposition, with characters finding resilience, freedom, and personal agency in a return to nature (McDonough and Wagner 157). Society will have attempted to restrict, destroy, or otherwise mine the natural world, but this attempt for control will inevitably fail or backfire. Initially the environment is displayed as a potentially antagonistic element, wild and dangerous; however, after the character escapes their confining world, it becomes an ally. In her employment of a perspective framed by Indigenous Knowledge, Kwaymullina subverts each of these established tropes, offering an alternative reading of conventions often embedded in the genre. Ashala is introduced as already entrenched in a rebellion that she is both leader and pivotal figure of. Inverting the dynamic outlined by Childs, she is love interest Connor’s motivation for rejecting the government and joining the Tribe: “You are the reason I came here, Ashala Wolf” (Kwaymullina 263). Kwaymullina dismisses Childs’ concern over the removal of female friendship in favour of heterosexual romance by centering Ashala’s relationships with Georgie and Ember as fundamental to Ashala’s well-being, where sistahood is a key paradigm of hope: “I carry my friends with me” (Kwaymullina 39). For Ashala and the Tribe, nature as exemplified through the Firstwood is Country, not only sanctuary but an animate being that Ashala speaks with, asks permission to live within, and offers protection and apology for the harm down to it by humans in the past. The privileging of environment, and reading all animate or inanimate beings as living, extends to challenging the nature/technology dichotomy. Even the static or sterile environments of the detention centres are recognised for their connection to nature in their construction from recycled materials: “Nothing ever truly ends, only transforms” (Kwaymullina 141). In “Learning to Read the Signs: Law in an Indigenous Reality”, Ambelin Kwaymullina and Blaze Kwaymullina write thatsince everything must interconnect and interrelate to survive, if a pattern is fixed in time, it loses its ability to dynamically connect with other patterns. To be temporally fixed is therefore to be isolated; frozen. In an Indigenous worldview, it is, in fact, an impossibility – for that which cannot move, cannot interact, and that which cannot interact is inanimate. And there is nothing inanimate in country. (200)This can be read as representative of Kwaymullina’s rupture or revision of dystopian tropes and genre. When tropes are read as static or absolute, they run the risk of freezing or limiting the knowledge encoded in these stories. By integrating Indigenous Knowledge, new patterns can emerge and interact, extending to the reader’s own understanding of genre, time, and epistemology. Kwaymullina’s revisioning of dystopian tropes through an embedded and celebrated Indigenous perspective culminates in the successful thematic, narrative, and structural expression of time as a non-linear concept. Kwaymullina and Kwaymullina acknowledge the division between the reductionist and linear perspective of time through a Western worldview in comparison to the non-linear perception from that of an Indigenous Australian worldview. They acknowledge that their expression of time is not to be read as representative of all Indigenous Australians’ perspective of time, but one informed by their own Country and upbringing. Kwaymullina and Kwaymullina write,in an Aboriginal worldview, time—to the extent that it exists at all—is neither linear nor absolute. There are patterns and systems of energy that create and transform, from the ageing process of the human body to the growth and decay of the broader universe. But these processes are not ‘measured’ or even framed in a strictly temporal sense, and certainly not in a linear sense. (199)This is enacted through the narrative structure of The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf. The text is set across four days, yet spans years, shifting through narrative in a non-linear manner and reflecting the Indigenous understanding of time as a circular, evolving concept. These four days act as the containers for the text, as Kwaymullina distinguishes the departure from linear time for the uninitiated reader by including headings and subheadings in chapter titles, marked as “Day One”, “Day Two”, “Day Three”, and “Day Four”, before the final section, “The Escape”. Within these containers, themselves marked linearly, narrative ebbs and flows across time and space, taking Ashala away from the Detention Centre to different moments from her past, spanning years. These ‘flashbacks’ are not presented in a linear fashion; the text revisits and repeats key moments of Ashala’s life out of sequence, providing an immediate focus on these seemingly past moments. This is key in shaping the reader’s understanding of “the patterns and systems of energy that create and transform” (Kwaymullina and Kwaymullina 199)—as Ashala revisits or rediscovers memory through time, perceptions of character, motive, relationships, and key plot points are changed and transformed. Meaning is formed through this relationship of narrative and time in a manner not possible through a linear structure. Over the course of the novel, Ashala and the reader find she’s chosen to give herself false memories to protect the Tribe and complete a master plan to defeat Neville Rose. As such, as the novel begins the reader, aligned with Ashala as narrative focaliser, is positioned to read key points through a flawed perspective. Connor is presented as an enemy and betrayer of the Tribe, while Ashala denies her feelings towards him. The reader is aligned with Ashala’s perspective—she has already fallen in love with Connor, but neither she nor the reader knows it due to the displacement of knowledge through narrative structure and memory. This also speaks to identity formation in the text—Ashala is herself, and not herself until the novel reaches full circle, and she and the reader have experienced multiple points of time. As Ember explains, “it’s not about losing small pieces of information. This stuff shapes your entire understanding of reality” (Kwaymullina 167). If the reader revisits the text with this knowledge, they find further value in exploring the non-linear, circular narrative, finding subtext in characters’ interactions and decisions. The disruption in the non-linear narrative structure is twofold: to reflect the representation of time in an Indigenous epistemology, further rewriting the genre; and to create an intersubjective dialogue. As such, the narrative structure creates a space of invitation to the reader. Rather than positioning Ashala as embedded and aware of her status as a custodian of Indigenous knowledge, the text places her as ingrained in Indigenous epistemology, but unaware of it. In this way, the text effectively invites the reader in, mirroring Ashala’s journey of (re)discovery. The non-Indigenous reader enters the text alongside Ashala, with Indigenous knowledge embedded subtly throughout the text echoed in Kwaymullina’s engagement with dystopian tropes, and integrated Indigenous epistemology. By the time Ashala meets the Serpent, her Grandfather, and has her ancestry explained to her, the reader has already been immersed in Ashala’s own way of thinking, an inherently Indigenous one; for instance, throughout the text, she acknowledges the value and interconnectedness of all beings, human and non-human, animate and inanimate. The text leaves space for the reader to be active in their own construction of meaning and knowledge by never using the terms “Indigenous” or “Aboriginal”, themselves colonial inventions employed to control and label. Instead, the reader is encouraged to engage in the metatextual intersubjective dialogue introduced by Kwaymullina to acknowledge Indigenous epistemology—but by way of her approach, Kwaymullina further encourages the reader to “forget Aborigines” (Healy 219) by centring knowledge in its own right, rather than in direct opposition to Western epistemologies. That is, Kwaymullina disrupts Western perspectives framing of Indigenous knowledge as “other”, altering expectations of the norm as non-Indigenous. As Kwaymullina writes, to conceive of time in a non-linear way is at once a great gift and a great responsibility. The responsibility is that our individual actions matter powerfully, radiating out across relationships and affecting all that might be thought of in a linear sense as past, present and future. But the gift is that the passage of linear time has never moved us so far that we cannot take meaningful action to heal the wounds of colonialism. (“Respect” 126-127)In The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf, Kwaymullina realises this gift and responsibility. By framing structural, conceptual, and narrative time through an Indigenous epistemology, Kwaymullina privileges Indigenous Knowledge and effectively subverts and revises the genre through the rupture of dystopian conventions. Possibilities of hope and healing emerge in the text’s construction of time and genre as spaces of growth and change are emphasised; like Ashala, the reader finds themselves at the end and beginning of the world at once.ReferencesBasu, Balaka, Katherine R. Broad, and Carrie Hintz, eds. Contemporary Dystopian Fiction for Young Adults: Brave New Teenagers. New York: Routledge, 2013. Booker, M. Keith. Dystopian Literature: A Theory and Research Guide. Westport, CT: Greenwood P, 1994. Bradford, Clare, et al. New World Orders in Children’s Literature: Utopian Transformations. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011. Childs, Ann M.M. “The Incompatibility of Female Friendships and Rebellion.” Female Rebellion in Young Adult Dystopian Fiction. Eds. Sara K. Day et al. 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U of California, 2017.Murphy, Graham J. “For Love of Country: Apocalyptic Survivance in Ambelin Kwaymullina’s Tribe Series.” Extrapolation: A Journal of Science Fiction and Fantasy 57.1-2 (2016). 20 Sep. 2019 <https://online.liverpooluniversitypress.co.uk/doi/pdf/10.3828/extr.2016.10>.Okorafor, Nnedi. “Organic Fantasy.” African Identities 7.2 (2009). 22 Sep. 2019 <https://doi.org/10.1080/14725840902808967>.Scott, Conrad. “(Indigenous) Place and Time as Formal Strategy: Healing Immanent Crisis in the Dystopias of Eden Robinson and Richard Van Camp.” Extrapolation: A Journal of Science Fiction and Fantasy 57.1-2 (2016). 20 Sep. 2019 <https://online.liverpooluniversitypress.co.uk/doi/pdf/10.3828/extr.2016.6>.Sypnowich, Christine. “Lessons from Dystopia: Critique, Hope and Political Education.” Journal of Philosophy of Education 52.4 (2018). 22 Sep. 2019 <https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-9752.12328>.

About half way through Yann Arthus-Bertrand’s film Home (2009) the narrator describes the fall of the Rapa Nui, the indigenous people of the Easter Islands. The narrator posits that the Rapa Nui culture collapsed due to extensive environmental degradation brought about by large-scale deforestation. The Rapa Nui cut down their massive native forests to clear spaces for agriculture, to heat their dwellings, to build canoes and, most importantly, to move their enormous rock sculptures—the Moai. The disappearance of their forests led to island-wide soil erosion and the gradual disappearance of arable land. Caught in the vice of overpopulation but with rapidly dwindling basic resources and no trees to build canoes, they were trapped on the island and watched helplessly as their society fell into disarray. The sequence ends with the narrator’s biting remark: “The real mystery of the Easter Islands is not how its strange statues got there, we know now; it's why the Rapa Nui didn't react in time.” In their unrelenting desire for development, the Rapa Nui appear to have overlooked the role the environment plays in maintaining a society. The island’s Moai accompanying the sequence appear as memento mori, a lesson in the mortality of human cultures brought about by their own misguided and short-sighted practices. Arthus-Bertrand’s Home, a film composed almost entirely of aerial photographs, bears witness to present-day environmental degradation and climate change, constructing society as a fragile structure built upon and sustained by the environment. Home is a call to recognise how contemporary practices of post-industrial societies have come to shape the environment and how they may impact the habitability of Earth in the near future. Through reflexivity and a ritualised structure the text invites spectators to look at themselves in a new light and remake their self-image in the wake of global environmental risk by embracing new, alternative core practices based on balance and interconnectedness. Arthus-Bertrand frames climate change not as a burden, but as a moment of profound realisation of the potential for change and humans ability to create a desirable future through hope and our innate capacity for renewal. This article examines how Arthus-Bertrand’s ritualised construction of climate change aims to remake viewers’ perception of present-day environmental degradation and investigates Home’s place in contemporary climate change communication discourse. Climate change, in its capacity to affect us globally, is considered a world risk. The most recent peer-reviewed Synthesis Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change suggests that the concentration of atmospheric greenhouse gases has increased markedly since human industrialisation in the 18th century. Moreover, human activities, such as fossil fuel burning and agricultural practices, are “very likely” responsible for the resulting increase in temperature rise (IPPC 37). The increased global temperatures and the subsequent changing weather patterns have a direct and profound impact on the physical and biological systems of our planet, including shrinking glaciers, melting permafrost, coastal erosion, and changes in species distribution and reproduction patterns (Rosenzweig et al. 353). Studies of global security assert that these physiological changes are expected to increase the likelihood of humanitarian disasters, food and water supply shortages, and competition for resources thus resulting in a destabilisation of global safety (Boston et al. 1–2). Human behaviour and dominant practices of modernity are now on a path to materially impact the future habitability of our home, Earth. In contemporary post-industrial societies, however, climate change remains an elusive, intangible threat. Here, the Arctic-bound species forced to adapt to milder climates or the inhabitants of low-lying Pacific islands seeking refuge in mainland cities are removed from the everyday experience of the controlled and regulated environments of homes, offices, and shopping malls. Diverse research into the mediated and mediatised nature of the environment suggests that rather than from first-hand experiences and observations, the majority of our knowledge concerning the environment now comes from its representation in the mass media (Hamilton 4; Stamm et al. 220; Cox 2). Consequently the threat of climate change is communicated and constructed through the news media, entertainment and lifestyle programming, and various documentaries and fiction films. It is therefore the construction (the representation of the risk in various discourses) that shapes people’s perception and experience of the phenomenon, and ultimately influences behaviour and instigates social response (Beck 213). By drawing on and negotiating society’s dominant discourses, environmental mediation defines spectators’ perceptions of the human-nature relationship and subsequently their roles and responsibilities in the face of environmental risks. Maxwell Boykoff asserts that contemporary modern society’s mediatised representations of environmental degradation and climate change depict the phenomena as external to society’s primary social and economic concerns (449). Julia Corbett argues that this is partly because environmental protection and sustainable behaviour are often at odds with the dominant social paradigms of consumerism, economic growth, and materialism (175). Similarly, Rowan Howard-Williams suggests that most media texts, especially news, do not emphasise the link between social practices, such as consumerist behaviour, and their environmental consequences because they contradict dominant social paradigms (41). The demands contemporary post-industrial societies make on the environment to sustain economic growth, consumer culture, and citizens’ comfortable lives in air-conditioned homes and offices are often left unarticulated. While the media coverage of environmental risks may indeed have contributed to “critical misperceptions, misleading debates, and divergent understandings” (Boykoff 450) climate change possesses innate characteristics that amplify its perception in present-day post-industrial societies as a distant and impersonal threat. Climate change is characterised by temporal and spatial de-localisation. The gradual increase in global temperature and its physical and biological consequences are much less prominent than seasonal changes and hence difficult to observe on human time-scales. Moreover, while research points to the increased probability of extreme climatic events such as droughts, wild fires, and changes in weather patterns (IPCC 48), they take place over a wide range of geographical locations and no single event can be ultimately said to be the result of climate change (Maibach and Roser-Renouf 145). In addition to these observational obstacles, political partisanship, vested interests in the current status quo, and general resistance to profound change all play a part in keeping us one step removed from the phenomenon of climate change. The distant and impersonal nature of climate change coupled with the “uncertainty over consequences, diverse and multiple engaged interests, conflicting knowledge claims, and high stakes” (Lorenzoni et al. 65) often result in repression, rejection, and denial, removing the individual’s responsibility to act. Research suggests that, due to its unique observational obstacles in contemporary post-industrial societies, climate change is considered a psychologically distant event (Pawlik 559), one that is not personally salient due to the “perceived distance and remoteness [...] from one’s everyday experience” (O’Neill and Nicholson-Cole 370). In an examination of the barriers to behaviour change in the face of psychologically distant events, Robert Gifford argues that changing individuals’ perceptions of the issue-domain is one of the challenges of countering environmental inertia—the lack of initiative for environmentally sustainable social action (5). To challenge the status quo a radically different construction of the environment and the human-nature relationship is required to transform our perception of global environmental risks and ultimately result in environmentally consequential social action. Yann Arthus-Bertrand’s Home is a ritualised construction of contemporary environmental degradation and climate change which takes spectators on a rite of passage to a newfound understanding of the human-nature relationship. Transformation through re-imagining individuals’ roles, responsibilities, and practices is an intrinsic quality of rituals. A ritual charts a subjects path from one state of consciousness to the next, resulting in a meaningful change of attitudes (Deflem 8). Through a lifelong study of African rituals British cultural ethnographer Victor Turner refined his concept of rituals in a modern social context. Turner observed that rituals conform to a three-phased processural form (The Ritual Process 13–14). First, in the separation stage, the subjects are selected and removed from their fixed position in the social structure. Second, they enter an in-between and ambiguous liminal stage, characterised by a “partial or complete separation of the subject from everyday existence” (Deflem 8). Finally, imbued with a new perspective of the outside world borne out of the experience of reflexivity, liminality, and a cathartic cleansing, subjects are reintegrated into the social reality in a new, stable state. The three distinct stages make the ritual an emotionally charged, highly personal experience that “demarcates the passage from one phase to another in the individual’s life-cycle” (Turner, “Symbols” 488) and actively shapes human attitudes and behaviour. Adhering to the three-staged processural form of the ritual, Arthus-Bertrand guides spectators towards a newfound understanding of their roles and responsibilities in creating a desirable future. In the first stage—the separation—aerial photography of Home alienates viewers from their anthropocentric perspectives of the outside world. This establishes Earth as a body, and unearths spectators’ guilt and shame in relation to contemporary world risks. Aerial photography strips landscapes of their conventional qualities of horizon, scale, and human reference. As fine art photographer Emmet Gowin observes, “when one really sees an awesome, vast place, our sense of wholeness is reorganised [...] and the body seems always to diminish” (qtd. in Reynolds 4). Confronted with a seemingly infinite sublime landscape from above, the spectator’s “body diminishes” as they witness Earth’s body gradually taking shape. Home’s rushing rivers of Indonesia are akin to blood flowing through the veins and the Siberian permafrost seems like the texture of skin in extreme close-up. Arthus-Bertrand establishes a geocentric embodiment to force spectators to perceive and experience the environmental degradation brought about by the dominant social practices of contemporary post-industrial modernity. The film-maker visualises the maltreatment of the environment through suggested abuse of the Earth’s body. Images of industrial agricultural practices in the United States appear to leave scratches and scars on the landscape, and as a ship crosses the Arctic ice sheets of the Northwest Passage the boat glides like the surgeon’s knife cutting through the uppermost layer of the skin. But the deep blue water that’s revealed in the wake of the craft suggests a flesh and body now devoid of life, a suffering Earth in the wake of global climatic change. Arthus-Bertrand’s images become the sublime evidence of human intervention in the environment and the reflection of present-day industrialisation materially altering the face of Earth. The film-maker exploits spectators’ geocentric perspective and sensibility to prompt reflexivity, provide revelations about the self, and unearth the forgotten shame and guilt in having inadvertently caused excessive environmental degradation. Following the sequences establishing Earth as the body of the text Arthus-Bertrand returns spectators to their everyday “natural” environment—the city. Having witnessed and endured the pain and suffering of Earth, spectators now gaze at the skyscrapers standing bold and tall in the cityscape with disillusionment. The pinnacles of modern urban development become symbols of arrogance and exploitation: structures forced upon the landscape. Moreover, the images of contemporary cityscapes in Home serve as triggers for ritual reflexivity, allowing the spectator to “perceive the self [...] as a distanced ‘other’ and hence achieve a partial ‘self-transcendence’” (Beck, Comments 491). Arthus-Bertrand’s aerial photographs of Los Angeles, New York, and Tokyo fold these distinct urban environments into one uniform fusion of glass, metal, and concrete devoid of life. The uniformity of these cultural landscapes prompts spectators to add the missing element: the human. Suddenly, the homes and offices of desolate cityscapes are populated by none other than us, looking at ourselves from a unique vantage point. The geocentric sensibility the film-maker invoked with the images of the suffering Earth now prompt a revelation about the self as spectators see their everyday urban environments in a new light. Their homes and offices become blemishes on the face of the Earth: its inhabitants, including the spectators themselves, complicit in the excessive mistreatment of the planet. The second stage of the ritual allows Arthus-Bertrand to challenge dominant social paradigms of present day post-industrial societies and introduce new, alternative moral directives to govern our habits and attitudes. Following the separation, ritual subjects enter an in-between, threshold stage, one unencumbered by the spatial, temporal, and social boundaries of everyday existence. Turner posits that a subjects passage through this liminal stage is necessary to attain psychic maturation and successful transition to a new, stable state at the end of the ritual (The Ritual Process 97). While this “betwixt and between” (Turner, The Ritual Process 95) state may be a fleeting moment of transition, it makes for a “lived experience [that] transforms human beings cognitively, emotionally, and morally.” (Horvath et al. 3) Through a change of perceptions liminality paves the way toward meaningful social action. Home places spectators in a state of liminality to contrast geocentric and anthropocentric views. Arthus-Bertrand contrasts natural and human-made environments in terms of diversity. The narrator’s description of the “miracle of life” is followed by images of trees seemingly defying gravity, snow-covered summits among mountain ranges, and a whale in the ocean. Grandeur and variety appear to be inherent qualities of biodiversity on Earth, qualities contrasted with images of the endless, uniform rectangular greenhouses of Almeria, Spain. This contrast emphasises the loss of variety in human achievements and the monotony mass-production brings to the landscape. With the image of a fire burning atop a factory chimney, Arthus-Bertrand critiques the change of pace and distortion of time inherent in anthropocentric views, and specifically in contemporary modernity. Here, the flames appear to instantly eat away at resources that have taken millions of years to form, bringing anthropocentric and geocentric temporality into sharp contrast. A sequence showing a night time metropolis underscores this distinction. The glittering cityscape is lit by hundreds of lights in skyscrapers in an effort, it appears, to mimic and surpass daylight and thus upturn the natural rhythm of life. As the narrator remarks, in our present-day environments, “days are now the pale reflections of nights.” Arthus-Bertrand also uses ritual liminality to mark the present as a transitory, threshold moment in human civilisation. The film-maker contrasts the spectre of our past with possible visions of the future to mark the moment of now as a time when humanity is on the threshold of two distinct states of mind. The narrator’s descriptions of contemporary post-industrial society’s reliance on non-renewable resources and lack of environmentally sustainable agricultural practices condemn the past and warn viewers of the consequences of continuing such practices into the future. Exploring the liminal present Arthus-Bertrand proposes distinctive futurescapes for humankind. On the one hand, the narrator’s description of California’s “concentration camp style cattle farming” suggests that humankind will live in a future that feeds from the past, falling back on frames of horrors and past mistakes. On the other hand, the example of Costa Rica, a nation that abolished its military and dedicated the budget to environmental conservation, is recognition of our ability to re-imagine our future in the face of global risk. Home introduces myths to imbue liminality with the alternative dominant social paradigm of ecology. By calling upon deep-seated structures myths “touch the heart of society’s emotional, spiritual and intellectual consciousness” (Killingsworth and Palmer 176) and help us understand and come to terms with complex social, economic, and scientific phenomena. With the capacity to “pattern thought, beliefs and practices,” (Maier 166) myths are ideal tools in communicating ritual liminality and challenging contemporary post-industrial society’s dominant social paradigms. The opening sequence of Home, where the crescent Earth is slowly revealed in the darkness of space, is an allusion to creation: the genesis myth. Accompanied only by a gentle hum our home emerges in brilliant blue, white, and green-brown encompassing most of the screen. It is as if darkness and chaos disintegrated and order, life, and the elements were created right before our eyes. Akin to the Earthrise image taken by the astronauts of Apollo 8, Home’s opening sequence underscores the notion that our home is a unique spot in the blackness of space and is defined and circumscribed by the elements. With the opening sequence Arthus-Bertrand wishes to impart the message of interdependence and reliance on elements—core concepts of ecology. Balance, another key theme in ecology, is introduced with an allusion to the Icarus myth in a sequence depicting Dubai. The story of Icarus’s fall from the sky after flying too close to the sun is a symbolic retelling of hubris—a violent pride and arrogance punishable by nemesis—destruction, which ultimately restores balance by forcing the individual back within the limits transgressed (Littleton 712). In Arthus-Bertrand’s portrayal of Dubai, the camera slowly tilts upwards on the Burj Khalifa tower, the tallest human-made structure ever built. The construction works on the tower explicitly frame humans against the bright blue sky in their attempt to reach ever further, transgressing their limitations much like the ill-fated Icarus. Arthus-Bertrand warns that contemporary modernity does not strive for balance or moderation, and with climate change we may have brought our nemesis upon ourselves. By suggesting new dominant paradigms and providing a critique of current maxims, Home’s retelling of myths ultimately sees spectators through to the final stage of the ritual. The last phase in the rite of passage “celebrates and commemorates transcendent powers,” (Deflem 8) marking subjects’ rebirth to a new status and distinctive perception of the outside world. It is at this stage that Arthus-Bertrand resolves the emotional distress uncovered in the separation phase. The film-maker uses humanity’s innate capacity for creation and renewal as a cathartic cleansing aimed at reconciling spectators’ guilt and shame in having inadvertently exacerbated global environmental degradation. Arthus-Bertrand identifies renewable resources as the key to redeeming technology, human intervention in the landscape, and finally humanity itself. Until now, the film-maker pictured modernity and technology, evidenced in his portrayal of Dubai, as synonymous with excess and disrespect for the interconnectedness and balance of elements on Earth. The final sequence shows a very different face of technology. Here, we see a mechanical sea-snake generating electricity by riding the waves off the coast of Scotland and solar panels turning towards the sun in the Sahara desert. Technology’s redemption is evidenced in its ability to imitate nature—a move towards geocentric consciousness (a lesson learned from the ritual’s liminal stage). Moreover, these human-made structures, unlike the skyscrapers earlier in the film, appear a lot less invasive in the landscape and speak of moderation and union with nature. With the above examples Arthus-Bertrand suggests that humanity can shed the greed that drove it to dig deeper and deeper into the Earth to acquire non-renewable resources such as oil and coal, what the narrator describes as “treasures buried deep.” The incorporation of principles of ecology, such as balance and interconnectedness, into humanity’s behaviour ushers in reconciliation and ritual cleansing in Home. Following the description of the move toward renewable resources, the narrator reveals that “worldwide four children out of five attend school, never has learning been given to so many human beings” marking education, innovation, and creativity as the true inexhaustible resources on Earth. Lastly, the description of Antarctica in Home is the essence of Arthus-Bertrand’s argument for our innate capacity to create, not simply exploit and destroy. Here, the narrator describes the continent as possessing “immense natural resources that no country can claim for itself, a natural reserve devoted to peace and science, a treaty signed by 49 nations has made it a treasure shared by all humanity.” Innovation appears to fuel humankind’s transcendence to a state where it is capable of compassion, unification, sharing, and finally creating treasures. With these examples Arthus-Bertrand suggests that humanity has an innate capacity for creative energy that awaits authentic expression and can turn humankind from destroyer to creator. In recent years various risk communication texts have explicitly addressed climate change, endeavouring to instigate environmentally consequential social action. Home breaks discursive ground among them through its ritualistic construction which seeks to transform spectators’ perception, and in turn roles and responsibilities, in the face of global environmental risks. Unlike recent climate change media texts such as An Inconvenient Truth (2006), The 11th Hour (2007), The Age of Stupid (2009), Carbon Nation (2010) and Earth: The Operator’s Manual (2011), Home eludes simple genre classification. On the threshold of photography and film, documentary and fiction, Arthus-Bertrand’s work is best classified as an advocacy film promoting public debate and engagement with a universal concern—the state of the environment. The film’s website, available in multiple languages, contains educational material, resources to organise public screenings, and a link to GoodPlanet.info: a website dedicated to environmentalism, including legal tools and initiatives to take action. The film-maker’s approach to using Home as a basis for education and raising awareness corresponds to Antonio Lopez’s critique of contemporary mass-media communications of global risks. Lopez rebukes traditional forms of mediatised communication that place emphasis on the imparting of knowledge and instead calls for a participatory, discussion-driven, organic media approach, akin to a communion or a ritual (106). Moreover, while texts often place a great emphasis on the messenger, for instance Al Gore in An Inconvenient Truth, Leonardo DiCaprio in The 11th Hour, or geologist Dr. Richard Alley in Earth: The Operator’s Manual, Home’s messenger remains unseen—the narrator is only identified at the very end of the film among the credits. The film-maker’s decision to forego a central human character helps dissociate the message from the personality of the messenger which aids in establishing and maintaining the geocentric sensibility of the text. Finally, the ritual’s invocation and cathartic cleansing of emotional distress enables Home to at once acknowledge our environmentally destructive past habits and point to a hopeful, environmentally sustainable future. While The Age of Stupid mostly focuses on humanity’s present and past failures to respond to an imminent environmental catastrophe, Carbon Nation, with the tagline “A climate change solutions movie that doesn’t even care if you believe in climate change,” only explores the potential future business opportunities in turning towards renewable resources and environmentally sustainable practices. The three-phased processural form of the ritual allows for a balance of backward and forward-looking, establishing the possibility of change and renewal in the face of world risk. The ritual is a transformative experience. As Turner states, rituals “interrupt the flow of social life and force a group to take cognizance of its behaviour in relation to its own values, and even question at times the value of those values” (“Dramatic Ritual” 82). Home, a ritualised media text, is an invitation to look at our world, its dominant social paradigms, and the key element within that world—ourselves—with new eyes. It makes explicit contemporary post-industrial society’s dependence on the environment, highlights our impact on Earth, and reveals our complicity in bringing about a contemporary world risk. The ritual structure and the self-reflexivity allow Arthus-Bertrand to transform climate change into a personally salient issue. This bestows upon the spectator the responsibility to act and to reconcile the spectre of the past with the vision of the future.Acknowledgments The author would like to thank Dr. Angi Buettner whose support, guidance, and supervision has been invaluable in preparing this article. 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Introduction "Barbie has a great day every day, but Ken only has a great day if Barbie looks at him", states the narrator in Barbie (2023). Directed by Greta Gerwig, the film not only claimed the title of the highest-grossing film of the year but also prompted its audience to reconsider a character they had previously mostly overlooked; another one of Barbie’s many accessories: Ken. Ken's identity as Barbie's companion is fundamentally dependent upon the presence and recognition of his more prominent female counterpart. This highlights Ken's secondary role, where he serves as a supporting figure to Barbie's idealised existence. Akin to a Manic Pixie Dream Boy (MPDB) overshadowed by Barbie, we realise Ken’s lack of identity. Throughout the film, Ken, initially depicted as identity-less, embarks on a journey of self-discovery, challenging the confines imposed by white patriarchy, although it doesn’t seem that way at first. This article will first establish Ken's MPDB status, highlighting traits such as (a) seeking to elevate and challenge the main character’s beliefs, (b) harbouring both gentleness and deviousness, while also engaging in playful yet mildly destructive mischief, (c) acting as a catalyst for change, (d) exhibiting a desire to escape, disappear, or transform, leaving valuable lessons behind, and (e) existing solely within the perception of or for the benefit of the main character. Subsequently, it will follow his journey, ultimately examining how a humanoid doll undergoes healing particularly concerning gender issues. Through the deconstruction of his narrative, this article aims to uncover the underlying power dynamics at play and to explore how Ken's transformation contributes to broader conversations surrounding gender fluidity and representation. By doing so, the article will provide an understanding of Ken's role and contribution to the feminist cause, while also offering insights into the broader cultural significance of the film. Manic Pixie Dream Girl In contemporary discourse, the term MPDGirl has gained recognition following its coinage by Nathan Rabin: “that bubbly, shallow, cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures” (Rabin, "The Bataan"). It rapidly gained eminence within popular culture, precipitating a widespread societal fixation on the quest for mining more MPDGs, up to the point where Rabin himself voiced his regret about coining the term ("I’m Sorry"). However, the MPDG was already a presence among us. As Laurie Penny states in the article "I Was a Manic Pixie Dream Girl", “Like scabies and syphilis, Manic Pixie Dream Girls were with us long before they were accurately named”. Additionally, Gouck contends that “the Pixie is a descendant of the Classical Muse and also has roots in the Pygmalion myth” (527). Thus, tracing from these foundational mythical and ancient iterations to contemporary relatives such as the Earnest Elfin Dream Gay (EEDG) and the “Magical Negro”, popularised by Spike Lee, reveals a diverse family tree. Although various writers for online platforms have declared the demise of the MPDG (Eby; Harris; Stoeffel), the trope constantly found ways to revive itself. Harris, in her 2012 article "Is the Manic Pixie Dream Girl Dead?", claimed that the trope has been turned on its head with later iterations like Ruby Sparks, “depicting a writer (Paul Dano) whose idealistic, winsome female character comes to life and challenges patriarchal notions of what women actually want”. Tannenbaum, on the other hand, suggested that the MPDG isn’t dead but just evolved through a loophole: the tragic backstory. This article contends that as long as a concept remains in circulation, it cannot die. Thus, even this article itself contributes to the preservation of the phenomenon in question. Manic Pixie Dream Boy In 2012, Molly Lambert introduced a notable extension of the MPDG archetype: the MPDB. Lambert described the MPDB as a character who uplifts the heroine's self-confidence through comfort, inspiration, and nurturing support, without expecting anything in return. He … tamps down her … temper while appreciating her quirks … . He’s a nerd, but not an angry … one. He’s handsome, but he has no idea … . His … hobbies might be immature … but it doesn’t extend to his emotions … . He’s a selfless, responsible Peter Pan. (Lambert) The likening of the MPDB to a selfless and responsible Peter Pan is flawed. One of the main reasons that make Peter Pan Peter Pan is that he doesn’t want to become an adult and be burdened with responsibilities. Additionally, the notion of the MPDB wanting nothing in return is flawed, as the MPDB's actions are usually driven by a fixation obsession rather than genuine altruism. Consequently, rather than epitomising selflessness, the MPDB defined by Lambert aligns more closely with an idealised EveryWoman’sDreamBoy archetype. In 2015, Anna Breslaw introduced another definition, labelling the MPDB as a “self-mythologizing ‘free-spirited’ dude”; however, it still remains unclear and unsatisfactory. Since its inception, there has been a fundamental misunderstanding of the concept of the MPDB. Originally rooted in a female-centric trope, it requires careful interpretation. When the definitions of the MPDB are applied as previously stated, it effectively transforms into an archetype that conventionally represents many women's ideal. However, unlike the MPDG, who is characterised by her eccentricity, the previous definitions of the MPDB reject this norm. Drawing inspiration from figures such as Peter Pan, Puck, King Kong, the Amphibian Man, the Beast, and Edward Scissorhands, the MPDB embodies a blend of comfort and chaos. This dichotomy is exemplified in Ken, who fulfills the role of comfort and chaos for Barbie, yet finds himself unwanted and unneeded. The real MPDB is defined by five core features that distinguish it from the misinterpreted notion often associated with the trope. a) The MPDB seeks to elevate and challenge the main character’s beliefs: Ken consistently tries to alter Barbie’s perceptions, as evidenced by his persistent attempts to reshape her opinion of him beyond superficial interests. This is exemplified by his pursuits beyond conventional activities, such as his daring act of running into the plastic waves, a seemingly unprecedented action that surprises, shocks, or scares those around him. b) The MPDB harbours both gentleness and deviousness, while engaging in playful yet mildly destructive mischief: Ken exhibits a dual nature, demonstrating kindness and charm towards Barbie while simultaneously harbouring ulterior motives, including a deep-seated desire to become Barbie's romantic partner. This complexity in character can be likened to the “nice guy syndrome”, where benevolent actions may mask underlying intentions. Furthermore, upon his return to build patriarchy, this desire is accentuated, showcasing his multilayered personality. c) The MPDB acts as a catalyst for change: Ken serves as an important force in instigating transformation, as demonstrated by the significant shifts that occur in both Barbieland and Barbie's life due to Ken's presence. His actions challenge Barbie's beliefs, whether intentionally or inadvertently, leading her to perceive new perspectives and undergo personal growth. d) The MPDB exhibits a desire to escape, disappear, or transform, leaving valuable lessons behind: Throughout Ken's MPDB journey, his inclination towards escapism, disappearance, or transformation becomes evident. While his initial desire to accompany Barbie may stem from romantic aspirations, it is also fuelled by the rivalry among the Kens. Once Ken realises there is more than Barbieland and he can want different things, he expresses his desire for change. As Ken evolves and heals, he undergoes a transformation, ultimately becoming a changed entity, yet leaving behind significant lessons that pave the way for the transformation of Barbieland and Barbie. e) The MPDB exists solely within the perception of or for the benefit of the main character: Ken’s presence is exclusively crafted within the perspective of, or to serve the needs of, the main character. According to a 2017 GQ article, Michael Shore, the head of Mattel's global consumer insights at the time, states that, “Ken was really viewed as more of an accessory in Barbie’s world, to support the narrative of whatever was happening with the girls” (qtd. in Weaver). This perspective reinforces Ken's role as arm candy within Barbie's world, serving as a complement to her endeavors at a ratio of about 1:7 (Weaver). This aspect highlights the trope's function as a narrative construct intended to support and shape the protagonist's storyline and growth. The MPDB Ken Ken (Ryan Gosling) makes his debut appearance in the Barbie movie at the eight-minute mark. While the narrative primarily revolves around Barbie, Ken's introduction is a subtle but significant moment. As Barbieland unfolds before us, Ken's delayed entrance, as another inhabitant of Barbieland, draws attention. Barbie is everywhere, but where is Ken? Amidst the cheerful exchanges of “Hi Barbie, Hi Ken”, Ken's behavior stands out—he doesn't reciprocate the greeting with other Kens, he only greets Barbie. Ken's omission from acknowledging his fellow Kens seems like a deliberate choice—a denial of their existence, perhaps suggesting that he perceives himself as the sole Ken of significance in Barbieland. His exclusive greeting to Barbie highlights this notion; in his world, Barbie is paramount, and other Kens are unimportant in comparison. We understand that there is a rivalry going on between the Kens; there is no Kenship, mainly between Ken (Gosling) and Ken (Simu Liu). The same evening at the party, while all the Barbies wear complementary yet distinct clothes, the Kens are dressed uniformly in identical outfits. This lack of individuality strips them of identity, claims Roche, “it is a training, an element in the education of controlled individual power ... designed to shape the physique … of [an] individual” (228-9). Uniforms shape individuality into collectivity and thus cause a lack of identity. The white and gold motifs on Kens’ jumpsuits may symbolise collectivity. They are a team; they are minds that have never been shaped before, they are accessories. The 'K' emblem on their jackets further emphasises their lack of identity. Costume designer Jacqueline Durran “imagined Gosling’s character as ‘almost like an accessory’ where his main function is to just be there and match her look. The Kens could all be dressed the same because there wasn’t meant to be anything distinct about them” (Zemler, "Dressing Barbie"). This point is even more highlighted in a scene where Barbie and Ken are in the car going to the real world, where Ken has another jumpsuit that is covered with the letter “B”. In the absence of the other Kens he is even more of an accessory, and even wearing something with his initials is denied, he is Barbie’s property. Contact with Patriarchy Barbie and Ken enter the real world, and interestingly, while throughout the travel sequence, Barbie is in front of Ken, leading Ken, in the shot where they enter the real world, Ken is in front of Barbie. Ken, for the first time alone, somehow ends up at Century City: “it is the antithesis of Barbieland”, says Greenwood, “there is an homage to the male construction industry and the male gaze” (Zemler, "On Location"). Men who are passing him say “excuse me, sir, thanks man, what’s up bud”. This new world that he encounters in Century City is giving him an identity. For the first time, he is something more than an unwanted MPDB. He is sir, he is man, he is bud. Since the Kens exist as a second-class species whose sole purpose is to cheer the Barbies on, he cannot comprehend his actual yearning, he thinks common decency (someone saying excuse me) is what patriarchy is. A fish out of water, the manic pixie Ken creates a pastiche of everything he encounters to assume this new identity: male presidents, mini-fridges, golf, a fur coat, and even horses. His first interaction with horses is through two police officers riding horses. Believing that horses are an important part of patriarchy, Ken wearing a cowboy outfit too, internalises the bond between horse and man. Pickel-Chavelier, in a study about horse stories, states that “the horse has been a fundamental element in the evolution of Western civilization” (120). Robinson argues that historically “the human-horse relationship was male-dominated, reflecting the horses’ role as a work tool and the traditional placing of power and power sources under the control of men” (44). Thus, the rider has been considered to have “increased power and an increased sense of power” while evoking “a sense of inferiority and envy” in pedestrians (Robinson 43). Studying the human-horse relationship through the American mounted police, Lawrence claimed that the mounted police have close relationships with their horses. Robinson states that “the officers spend much time with their animals each day and develop a sense of trust” (43). Ken's admiration of horses likely symbolises his evolving understanding of masculinity and power dynamics within patriarchy. Being introduced to horses as symbols of authority and control, he understands them as companions embodying strength, loyalty, and trust. This explains how he understands masculinity as a realm where power is defined by mutual respect and partnership, rather than dominance, which is also probably the reason why he loses interest in patriarchy when he realises it’s not about horses. Nicholas, in their article "Ken’s Rights?", claims that “radicalization … is often motivated by feelings among … men of being left behind by a feminist world or system that doesn’t value them. This then leads them to long for an imagined natural order of patriarchy where women are back in their place and men regain their entitlements”. Ken’s frustration leads him to introduce patriarchy to his fellow Kens, envisioning a transformation of Barbieland into a new Century City. This shift reflects Ken’s Manic Pixie healing journey: rather than being solely an MPDB, Ken slowly constructs an identity under patriarchy for himself. Drawing from Connell's perspective on hegemonic masculinity, which posits that masculinity is always constructed in response to subordinated masculinities, we see how Ken's desire for change extends to altering the very fabric of Barbieland, from its constitution to its name, renaming it Kendom. This name change holds significance, echoing the concept of “Inceldom” within the larger misogynist ecosystem of the Manosphere, where men perceive themselves as deprived of love and intimacy due to feminist ideals. In addition to incels, the ‘Manosphere’ is comprised of Men’s Right Activists, Men Going Their Own Way (MGTOW), AND Pick-Up Artists (PUAs). Each of these groups subscribe to the same underlying philosophy, referred to as the ‘red pill’… When an individual has ‘taken the red pill’, they have enlightened themselves to a reality in which women wield feminism as a weapon against men, depriving them of sex and love. (Gothard et al. 1) Ken’s new outfit is another important change. As patriarchy leaks into Barbieland, Ken's outfit begins to reflect iconic images of masculinity, such as Sylvester Stallone in a mink coat. Previously, Ken's clothing complemented Barbie's, but now, his fanny pack displays his full name instead of just the letter K, positioned over his non-existent genitalia. This deliberate placement implies a newfound connection between his new identity and his imagined sex. When discontent Barbies strategise to disrupt the new order, they manipulate Kens' fragile egos, inciting conflict just before the crucial constitution vote. The fighting sequence starts with Ryan Gosling’s "I'm just Ken" song and imagery reminiscent of Rodin's iconic statue “The Thinker”. The Rodin Museum describes the figure as “a being with a tortured body, almost a damned soul, and a free-thinking man, determined to transcend his suffering through poetry”, mirroring Ken's current state of turmoil. In Rodin’s lifetime, there were “many marble and bronze editions in several sizes” that have been executed (Zelazko). Similarly, there are countless iterations of Ken, undermining his belief in his uniqueness. The general anticipation of the statue being impressive but then feeling let down when seeing its real size serves as a poignant metaphor for Ken's inflated self-importance, contrasted with his inherent fragility and insignificance. As the chorus “I’m just Ken” starts, Ken (Gosling) rides into the battle “on paddle boats reminiscent of cannon-loaded ships, while [Ken (Liu)]’s crew carries him over their shoulders, spinning umbrellas like wheels and holding stick horses as if they were human chariots” (Lee), having frisbees, tennis rackets, and other sports equipment in their hands. This imagery not only captivates the audience but also serves as a reflection of the sports and war imagery in media representations of men. The notion of hegemonic masculinity is intricately woven into such depictions. Jansen and Sabo point out “that the sport/war metaphor is embedded within a “deep structure” of patriarchal values, beliefs, and power relations that, in turn, reflect and advance the agendas of hegemonic masculinity” (2). This metaphor not only reflects but also advances the agendas of hegemonic masculinity. By glorifying competition and valorising traits associated with aggression and dominance, media representations perpetuate narrow and rigid norms of masculinity, reinforcing the hierarchical gender dynamics prevalent in society. However, through playful exploration of these notions, Barbie introduces a significant step in the healing journey of MPDBs, all while cleverly critiquing the inherent associations society makes between masculinity, competitive sports, and even aspects of warfare. Kenough As Ken continues his performance, seamlessly transitioning from a part-power ballad, part-battle sequence into a dream ballet, the narrative takes a profound turn. Connell's concept of “gender order”, referring to “a historically constructed pattern of power relations between men and women and definitions of femininity and masculinity” that emerge and are transformed within varying institutional contexts (98-99), becomes particularly relevant when applied to dancing, seen as an institutional context. Silvester, discussing how gender dynamics within dancing evolved, notes that in the 60s, with the twist and later with disco dancing, dancers did not have to have partners any more, which made the “presumptions about the effeminacy of professional male dancers” widespread (qtd. in Owen 18). Because in performance culture female dancers were the objects of desire for usually male spectators, dancing found itself a place inside the borders of femininity, “and homophobic prejudices against male dancers grew” (Owen 18). Initially, at the party, dancing symbolises their confinement to their identities as Barbie’s accessory, and later it serves as a catalyst for shedding the performative shackles of masculinity and patriarchy. Through dance, MPDB Ken embraces authenticity, breaking down the barriers of the embarrassment of showing admiration to his fellow Kens and fostering genuine connection and affection. The Kens help each other up, they giggle, and they kiss each other on the cheek; they are no longer threatened by each other or by showing affection. As the battle sequence comes to an end, one Ken acknowledges that they were only fighting because they didn’t know who they were. What initially began as a melodramatic expression of the insecurities of an incel, angry at his object of affection, transforms into a collective affirmation of self-worth, fostering unity and acceptance among the Kens. Lee aptly describes this transformation as an elevation from internal conflict to self-affirming validation, marking a pivotal shift away from self-destructive behaviours towards mutual respect and understanding. Ken finally has an identity that is not defined through Barbie’s gaze or patriarchal vision of masculinity. He is not an MPDB that only exists for the protagonist anymore. He finds an identity; however, one he does not know how to express. Connell and Messerschmidt state that “men can adopt hegemonic masculinity when it is desirable; but the same men can distance themselves strategically from hegemonic masculinity at other moments. Consequently, ‘masculinity’ represents not a certain type of man but, rather, a way that men position themselves through discursive practices” (841). Ken still does not abandon what he has found in the real world. Knowing he has been defeated he tries to “strategically” reposition himself. Like a toddler having a temper tantrum, he runs to his mojo dojo casa house, throws himself on his bed, and starts crying, while Barbie tries to comfort him. Myisha et al. suggest that Barbie, as a woman, again is cast in the role of nurturer and comforter, and thus the movie finds itself repeating gender stereotypes. However, missing the point that Ken is crying in this scene, these criticisms are themselves reinforcing gender stereotypes by mistaking common decency for an intrinsic association with women. Ken later denounces patriarchy and learns from Barbie not to define himself by his possessions, his relationship, or his job. Embracing his individuality, he declares, “I'm Ken, and I'm Kenough”, going down the slide, symbolizing a rebirth. In his final shot, Ken is seen with a sweatshirt proclaiming “I’m Kenough”. In embracing his past identities through the bandana and the color pink, he constructs a new identity, one that welcomes all colors. bell hooks defines feminism as “the struggle to end sexist oppression” for all women without “[privileging] women over men” (26). Greta Gerwig, in an interview with Time, acknowledges the struggles faced by both men and women throughout history, highlighting the universal pressure to meet unrealistic standards (Carlin). This suggests that while women face specific forms of oppression, men too are ensnared by other rigid societal norms, if not the same. By recognising these challenges, feminism advocates for the involvement of men in the movement. Whether it is standing in solidarity with women or confronting their own biases, men play a pivotal role in advancing gender equality. For feminism to thrive, it necessitates men's active participation, urging them to support women's rights and challenge patriarchal structures while remaining open to introspection and growth. Feminism has consistently aimed to dismantle the rigid gender binaries epitomised by the Barbie/Ken dichotomy, advocating for the separation of attributes from their gendered associations. From Barbie, we can glean the lesson that hierarchical and inflexible gender norms benefit no one and that power and social roles should not be determined by one's biological sex. Nicholas, in their article "Ken’s Rights?", claims that online antifeminist discourses reveal parallels between Ken's journey in the movie and themes found in Men’s Rights Activist spaces. Ken's transition from aggrievement to a more enlightened perspective on masculinity mirrors the narratives prevalent in such spaces. This underscores the importance of understanding and addressing men within the context of feminism, as their experiences are intertwined with broader societal structures and expectations. True progress cannot be achieved if we continue to view those who perpetuate patriarchy or toxic masculinity as “others”. We should see them as humanoid Ken dolls, and in doing so help them to help us trigger answers and solutions. Understanding and addressing these issues is crucial for healing and reducing harm inflicted by patriarchal norms. While Barbie may have its flaws, focussing solely on its shortcomings detracts from the opportunity to address deeper issues regarding society. MPDB Ken's portrayal as a subservient accessory to Barbie raises important questions about gender dynamics and the impact of societal expectations on individuals. Rather than vilifying Ken because he brought patriarchy to Barbieland, and reducing him only to a man, I advocate for understanding his journey and recognising him also as a brainwashed character, alongside the brainwashed Barbies, who needed the help of his friends to heal. By acknowledging and addressing the influence of patriarchal norms on all individuals, including men like Ken, we can work towards healing and progress for all. References Barbie. Dir. G. Gerwig. Warner Bros. Pictures, 2023. Breslaw, Anna. “Beware the Manic Pixie Dream Boyfriend.” The Cut, 13 Sep. 2015. <https://www.thecut.com/2015/09/beware-the-manic-pixie-dream-boyfriend.html>. Carlin, Shannon. “The History Behind Barbie’s Ken.” Time, 20 Jul. 2023. <https://time.com/6296386/barbie-ken-history/>. Connell, Raewyn. "The Social Organization of Masculinity." Feminist Theory Reader. Routledge, 2020. 192-200. ———. Gender and Power Cambridge. Polity, 1987. Connell, Raewyn, and James W. Messerschmidt. 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